In the Hometown of Joliet Jake, Damn Right Buddy Guy and Ronnie Baker Brooks Brought the Blues -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Buddy Guy
w/ opening act Ronnie Baker Brooks
Rialto Square Theatre
March 31, 2018
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Although this should actually date back further, since 2002 I have now seen Buddy Guy live onstage 10 times.

Seven of these shows have come during his annual January residency at the Chicago club he owns, Buddy Guy's Legends.

This is the quintessential way, and place, to see the legendary blues guitarist and singer.

But is also something of a pain in the keister.

Not only have prices steadily risen, costing nearly $100 per person including Ticketmaster fees for a Friday or Saturday night, but as the general admission club has far fewer seats than the number of patrons who attend Buddy's gigs, you are advised to arrive around Noon if you want to reasonably assure yourself of sitting. And on Fridays & Saturdays, Buddy doesn't take the stage until 10:30pm or so.

Thursdays and Sundays tend to be a bit cheaper, earlier and slightly less of a hassle, but--though I loved seeing Buddy Guy at Legends as recently as January 2017--I wasn't that motivated to commit 10+ hours to do so again this year. (Though watching live streams aren't nearly the same, they sufficed.)

But even amid Buddy's 2018 residency, he announced a concert at Joliet's Rialto Square Theatre.

So I bought a ticket, having never been to the grand old venue that began as a movie house in 1926, just 10 years before Buddy Guy was born.

And I still devoted about 10 hours to getting to, waiting for, returning home from and seeing the show.

This isn't just because Joliet is a good hike from my home in Skokie.

As it happened--having already prompted my mom to postpone a Night 2 Passover Seder because I was oblivious to the conflict--the Loyola Ramblers wound up playing in the NCAA Final Four on Saturday.

A bit fortuitously, their game was at 5:00pm so I could watch it--in Joliet--before the concert.

A friend who lives near Joliet had mentioned a couple of options close to the theater, including a restaurant/bar called Juliet's, which is where I wound up, in part because a cop I asked near the Rialto also recommended it. 

As anyone who cares already knows, Loyola lost.

Things looked good for the first 3/4 of the game, but then things fell apart.

But enough about that.

And while I found it a bit odd that noted horrorcore act Insane Clown Posse was playing a bar between Juliet's and the Rialto in downtown Joliet the same night, it had no real consequence on me.

I had a pretty good main floor seat at the resplendent Rialto, for $52.50 plus fees, so a bit less than I would have paid at Legends even on a Thursday or Sunday, although with considerably less intimacy.

Opening the show was Ronnie Baker Brooks, son of longtime Chicago blues legend Lonnie Brooks, who passed last April 1.

Before playing a note, Ronnie dedicated the show to his dad, and went on to deliver a delightful hour, complete with audience singalongs, standing ovations and much great guitar soloing from RBB.

I had seen Ronnie a few times alongside his dad, and opening a show for B.B. King in 2008, so I knew he was terrific.

And his performance with three sidemen was so good, it almost would've justified the shlep to Joliet in itself.

I can't cite many of the song titles, but as he mentioned his new album, Times Have Changed, I know Ronnie Baker Brooks and his band played the title song and "Long Story Short" from it.

Mentioning his dad Lonnie again, he also got the crowd to sing along heartily on "Sweet Home Chicago."

A little after 9:00pm, Buddy Guy and his band took the stage with the title song from his 1991 album, Damn Right, I've Got the Blues.

In a white fedora and a black shirt with white polka dots that matched his Fender Strat, the 81-year-old Guy cut his normal dashing figure.

And when he played blazing solos, it was--as always--one of the greatest sounds I have ever heard.

Though he is, almost inarguably, the world's greatest living bluesman, Guy spent much of the near 2-hour performance paying homage to his predecessors and late contemporaries: Willie Dixon ("I'm Your Hoochie Coochie Man"), Muddy Waters ("Nineteen Years Old"), John Lee Hooker ("Boom, Boom") and the man he called the greatest guitarist he ever heard, B.B. King ("Sweet Sixteen").

As is typical, he also referenced--verbally and musically, but often with just snippets--those who followed in his wake, like Eric Clapton (part of "Strange Brew" and "Sunshine of Your Love") and Jimi Hendrix (a taste of "Voodoo Child").

Given the locale, I liked how Buddy regaled the sold-out crowd with recollections of frequently playing a Joliet blues club in 1960s--perhaps called Route 66 Blues or something akin I didn't quite glean--and noting that he often had to learn the pop songs of the day, such as Marvin Gaye's "Ain't That Peculiar," which got a nice run-through.

Despite the larger venue, it was the type of performance I've often seen him give at Legends, with similar songs, snippets, stories and his wondrous Cheshire cat grin.

Though likely more novel to those seeing him for the first time--and Buddy mainly plays these types of stately venues in maintaining a prolific touring schedule--it was still fun to see him play the guitar, on occasion, with his mouth, a drumstick and behind his back.

And while much of the old blues was glorious, I really enjoyed renditions of more (relatively) recent tunes such as "Feels Like Rain," "Someone Else is Steppin' In" and a sublime "Skin Deep" that followed touching memories Buddy shared about his mom instilling core human values in him.

Buddy Guy's band--including, I believe, Ric Hall on guitar, Marty Sammons on keys, Orlando Wright on bass and Tim Austin on drums--was typically stellar, with Sammons often locking in with Buddy, and Hall playing some great solos of his own.

At night's end, Buddy Guy brought Ronnie Baker Brooks onstage with him, for another pass through "Sweet Home Chicago."

All in all--despite Loyola losing--it was a pretty swell night.

Though I'm still convinced that the best way, and place, to see Buddy Guy is at the club that bears his name.

Night After Night, Show After Show, Buddy Guy's Legend Continues to Grow -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Buddy Guy
w/ opening act Corey Dennison
acoustic set by
Joe Moss & Sean McKee
Buddy Guy's Legends
January 12, 2017
(part of 16-show residency through January 29)
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Forever young at the age of 80, the legendary Buddy Guy maintains a touring schedule that would put to shame many a far younger musician.

Including his current 16-show residency at his own Buddy Guy's Legends in Chicago, the blues icon is presently scheduled to play 75 concerts in 2017, with all but 10 coming before the end of May.

Along with crisscrossing the U.S. mainland from Seattle to St. Augustine, Guy is scheduled to appear in Paris and at Bluesfest near Byron Bay, Australia. This comes after 70+ shows in 2016 that also took him to Europe.

If Buddy Guy comes to play in a town near you, I emphatically recommend you go see him, as the sound emitted when his fingers blaze along the fretboard of his Fender Stratocaster is one of most glorious you'll ever hear.

Still.

But while catching Buddy at a comfortable theater with reserved seats may be far more hassle-free than figuring out the game plan for fitting in among the cultish legions who pack his shows at Legends, seeing him in that hometown setting has been one of the great thrills of my life.

Repeatedly, and again this past Thursday.

This was the 7th time (over the past 16 years) I ventured to the 700 block of South Wabash to see Buddy Guy at his namesake club. (I also saw him once at Ravinia and opening for--and playing alongside--the Rolling Stones at Milwaukee Summerfest in 2015.)

I happily would have gone far more often, but while the cost to see Buddy onstage for about 100 minutes is fair, it's not inestimable, and to get a seat you have to arrive at the club hours ahead of time.

(For those for whom this, or considerable standing in a crowded club, isn't an appealing option, I recommend the archived broadcasts of the Legends shows for just $5 each, which you can find here at BuddyGuy.tv. In past years shows were broadcast live, but this doesn't seem to be the case in 2017.)

When my ticketed companion for Thursday night fell ill, I was somewhat surprised to have my mom offer to pinch hit at the last minute, and in reaching Legends around 4:30pm table seating was already quite sparse.

Fortuitously, we were able to get a pair of seats at a table with a couple who had come from Oregon primarily to see Buddy--they said they had done so once before, in 2001, and were delighted to have another chance--and had gotten to the club by 11:30am.

It seems many other of the patrons seated at tables had come even earlier, waiting out in the cold before Legends opened its doors at 11am. (Note: The timeline I will reference applies to Thursday and Sunday shows of Buddy Guy's residency; Sat./Sun. shows run later, so check pertinent info for yourself if you plan to attend.)

Appreciably, Buddy and those who help him run Legends are aware of the devotion of his fans, and on nights when he is scheduled to begin playing at 9:00pm, the live music begins at 4:00pm with a 2-1/2 hour set of acoustic blues.

Hence, when we arrived, a performer I later discerned to be named Joe Moss was playing and singing, accompanied by a younger man named Sean McKee, whom Moss identified as having been a student of his.

Their set was enjoyable, and provided a nice soundtrack for my dinner of Blackened Catfish, garlic mashed potatoes, collared greens, gumbo and cornbread.

My mom had some veggie gumbo and I couldn't resist trying the Peanut Buddy Pie.

All of the food was excellent. I've only ever been to Legends to see Buddy Guy, but I really should get there more often.

At 7:30 came the night's official opening act, Corey Dennison, a singer and guitarist whose announced moniker of the Chattanooga Cannonball seemed just about perfect. (He also seemed to be nicknamed "The Deacon.")

Frequently cajoling the audience to stand, the affable and energetic Dennison delivered a highly enjoyable hour with three bandmates, including a rather formidable guitarist named Gerry Hundt.

I can't confidently name any of their songs, but one was presumably, "Misti"--with an M-I-S-T-I refrain--while others may have been called "Where the Green Grass Grows," "I'm Gone" and "Are You Serious?"

You can actually watch Dennison's entire Jan. 12 set at Legends here, and some may enjoy (and perhaps better explain to me) the lyrical reference to "Levi Roosevelt Franklin Stubbs," which seems to pay homage to both the lead singer of the Four Tops and a former major league ballplayer.

Dennison would later share the stage with Buddy Guy near the end of the latter's set, and clearly seemed to be having the time of his life.

Leading up to Buddy and his band, a drawing was held to win a guitar signed by the legend himself.

I gladly had bought an entry ticket for $5, not just to support Buddy Guy's efforts--through PCA Blue--to raise awareness for prostate cancer, which took the life of his brother Phil in 2008, but because my good friend Ken, with whom I had seen Buddy in 2014, had won a signed guitar the previous Saturday night.

My drawing ticket was number 541331.

From the stage, a ticket was pulled and read:

5-4-1-3-3-.....4.

Darn! So close.

Oh well, I did buy a souvenir coaster shaped like a guitar pick that Buddy signed after his show, as he does for all fans who buy merchandise.

My polite request to have a quick picture taken with him was rebuffed by a security guard, but neither that nor not winning the guitar mattered much, as just seeing Buddy play, sing and regale (with stories, wisdom and other quips) once again was prize enough.

Resplendent in a sky blue pinstriped suit, Buddy Guy took the stage Thursday night around 9:15 and didn't leave it nearly to 11.

Still appearing to be in great shape, Buddy apologized for a rough voice--it wasn't too bad--due to it being f'ed up by a flu shot he insisted he didn't request, and proceeded to remind why, with due respect to other great, surviving blues artists who had migrated to Chicago decades ago (Lonnie Brooks, Eddy "The Chief" Clearwater, Carl Weathersby, etc.), there is no one else quite like him.

This is a man who recorded with Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon and Howlin' Wolf--among many others--in the early days of Chess Records, and a groundbreaking guitarist who clearly influenced Keith Richards, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck (with whom he toured last year), Jimi Hendrix, Billy Gibbons and so many more.

Yet, as I must make clear, going to see Buddy Guy in 2017 is not a trip of mere reverence.

Sure, there's reason for awe, and Buddy should be cherished for who he is, where he's been, what he's seen and what he did long ago.

But the lightning and thunder are still very much alive, and damn thrilling.

My mom, who I've never known to be a blues aficionado, was abundantly and demonstrably dazzled, as Guy knocked off blazing guitar leads, locked in with keyboardist Marty Sammon, deferred to Ric Hall--a brilliant guitarist in his own right--played classics like "Hoochie Coochie Man," honored requests for "Mary Ann" and "Feels Like Rain" and made spoken and/or musical reference to Clapton, Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan, John Lee Hooker, Lil' Walter, Sonny Boy Williamson and seminal harmonica player Junior Wells, with whom Buddy famously collaborated in the 1960s.

Though I can't cite song titles, Buddy noted and played tunes from his Grammy-winning 2015 album, Born to Play Guitar, and also delighted with runs through "Fever" (as made famous by Peggy Lee), "Knock on Wood" (which I came to know through Anita Ward) and various snippets, including "Strange Brew," "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" and Hendrix' "Voodoo Chile," which, as always, brought goosebumps.

He even played the guitar with his teeth, and behind his back; old tricks that brought new wonder.

With Tim Austin on drums and Orlando Wright on bass, Buddy Guy seemed comfortable in the spotlight at the mic, but also away from it while letting his top-notch band shine.

Memory doesn't serve enough to say if he's slowed down any, but terrific songs and blistering solos were more than sufficient for my money...and effort.

As I tried to intimate above, seeing Buddy Guy at venues other than Legends may be easier, but I doubt any would feel as special and--including by frequently flashing one of the greatest smiles you'll ever see--he's always made me happy to witness him in his hometown lair, which houses enough memorabilia to make for a blues museum.

Noting that 2017 marks 60 years since he came to Chicago--on September 25, 1957, as he specified--after being born and raised in Louisiana, Buddy graciously thanked the audience for supporting the blues while stating:

"I know I can't please all of you, but I damn sure try."

Indeed you do, Mr. Guy--try and please, both--and while praising the show I just saw, recommending others get down to Legends if at all possible and looking forward to my next opportunity, I'll end this simply by saying:

Thanks, Buddy.

Buddy Guy, faster than the live video feed behind him.

A Legend in His Own Time...and Place -- Chicago Concert Review: Buddy Guy at Legends

Concert Review

Buddy Guy

w/ opening act Chicago Blues All-Stars

Buddy Guy's Legends, Chicago

January 19, 2014

(performances thru Jan. 26)

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Excepting, at best, Michael Jordan, assorted other retired athletes and Oprah Winfrey, Buddy Guy may well be Chicago's greatest living legend.

But unlike Oprah, MJ, Mike Ditka, Dick Butkus, Gale Sayers, Ernie Banks, Frank Thomas, Stan Mikita, Bobby Hull, et al, who either long ago left the Windy City or ceased showcasing their talents here, Buddy is a living, breathing and still smoking-hot guitar-playing pillar--and icon--of the community.

He lives in the area as he has since coming here 57 years ago from his native Louisiana; he owns and often hangs out at his namesake club, likely the most famous and successful extant blues venue in Chicago; and every January, Buddy Guy furthers his own legend by doing a 16-show residency at Buddy Guy's Legends.

Sunday night was the sixth time I've gone to one of Buddy's January shows but the first time since his club moved a few doors north on Wabash. I had gone four straight years from 2002-05, but as ticket prices have risen over the years from $25 to $55, this was my first gig since a sensational one in 2010.

Buddy Guy is now 77 years old and while he seems to be in good shape--despite nursing a minor malady of some sort; he relayed how several medications were suggested to him--one never knows how many more opportunities exist to see and hear the man whose guitar soloing may well be the sweetest sound my ears will ever hear.

Thus it was well worth the time, money and effort for my friend Ken and I to get down to Legends at 6:30pm on Sunday. Although this was a good 2-1/2 half hours before Buddy would take the stage, all of the seats and much prime standing room were already taken. (A guy at an upfront table told me after the show that he arrived at 9:30am, though the doors didn't even open until Noon.)

But though it seemed that we might be relegated to watching the show via a video feed to a seating area upstairs, things actually worked out for the best.

We were able to comfortably enjoy dinner from Legends' Cajun-style menu, both choosing blackened catfish--mine smothered with crawfish étouffée; the entire meal was delicious--while being able to watch the NFC Championship Game and then the opening act while comfortably seated.

Sadly, as printed on my ticket, the opening act on Sunday, January 19 was supposed to be Eric "Guitar" Davis. Exactly a month prior, Davis was shot to death while in his car on Chicago's South Side during what is believed to be an attempted robbery.

So an assemblage of musicians called the Chicago Blues All-Stars opened the show at Legends and money was collected to benefit Davis' family. (An even larger benefit for Davis was also held Sunday night at Rosa's Lounge.) 

The music by the All-Stars sounded strong even piped into our upstairs perch. (I should also note that there was an acoustic performance beginning at 4:00pm by an artist I can't name, but we only caught the last couple minutes.)

While I wasn't optimistic about finding a place to stand let alone comfortably doing so for the duration of Buddy's set, Ken and I decided to give it a try and were able to shoehorn our way into spots at the back right of the room facing the stage.

Being vertically challenged I often had to settle for brief glimpses of Buddy through the crowd, seeing him on my camera's LCD screen as I held it above the heads in front of me or turning to watch a video screen behind us. But the experience was undoubtedly exponentially better than had we stayed upstairs to watch on closed circuit.

Being almost a foot taller than me, Ken was able to see almost everything, and only towards the end of Buddy's 2-hour set--likely the longest I've ever seen him play by at least 20 minutes--did my feet start hurting.

But with blazing guitar solos by Buddy, second guitarist Ric Hall and, for a couple numbers, Buddy's son Greg, time seemed to go by a lot faster than normal.

Buddy looked dapper as ever in a white blazer and trademark hat and seemed to be in good spirits and fine form.

Buddy Guy, right, with Willie Dixon and Muddy Waters at Chess Records studio

Coming on promptly at 9:00pm, he opened his set with the title track from his Grammy-winning 1991 album, Damn Right, I've Got the Blues. 

He then paid homage to his old friends and Chess Records comrades, Willie Dixon and Muddy Waters, by playing "Hoochie Coochie Man," written by the former and first recorded by the latter in 1954.

Though he did pause his playing several times to speak to the audience, and late in the show demonstrated that he could mimic the playing of Keith Richards ("Satisfaction"), Eric Clapton ("Strange Brew") and Jimi Hendrix ("Voodoo Chile"), the performance was not marred--as were ones past--by lengthy harangues of underappreciation (accurate as they may have been).

Supported by his crack Damn Right Blues Band--including Hall, bassist Orlando Wright, drummer Tim Austin and Marty Simon on keys--Buddy augmented most songs with exquisite solos that not only were still blazingly fast, but sounded singularly thick and deep in a way that made one almost feel the callouses on his fingers.

There really is no other guitarist quite like him; Ken noted the sound Buddy gets from his Marshall amp and how he "bends notes like no one else."

Buddy graciously spread the solos around, letting Hall take a few impressive turns, and in bringing his son Greg out to join in on a request for "Feels Like Rain," it was apparent that some of Buddy's genius has been passed down through his genes.

Highlights were many, including the songs already mentioned plus "Got My Mojo Working," a romp through "What'd I Say," the poignant Guy original "Skin Deep" and "Meet Me in Chicago," from Buddy's latest album, Rhythm & Blues.

At once paying tribute to late legends and reiterating his place among them, Buddy also played songs by John Lee Hooker, Issac Hayes and Albert King. On the latter, his took his standard once-per-show stroll through the aisles of his club, and I can't deny the thrill of seeing such an icon so up close, and briefly reached out to touch his shoulder.

Adding to the many kernels of history and wisdom Buddy offered from the stage--including "It's not
where you're from but who you are that makes a difference," "Don't tell me you love me, show me; if you tell me, you can lie" and recalling how his earliest gigs in Chicago were "for a dime"--the uplifting experience of seeing and hearing Buddy Guy, in his own club, still at the height of his powers, was summed up nicely by Ken:

"It's great to be back in church."

Amen.

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Per the website for Buddy Guy's Legends, tickets seem to remain available for this Thursday and Sunday nights, on the last weekend of Buddy's 2014 residency. 

Though tickets are a bit pricey and the requisite effort rather lengthy, especially if you've never had the experience of seeing Buddy at Legends, I highly recommend you try to get there.