The elusive female orgasm can be perfectly mimicked by a guy
playing blues harmonica.
Chances are few, if any, of the near-capacity crowd at Royce
Hall on Thursday night being aware of this little-known fact, but
by the time Charlie Musselwhite finished his set, no one had any
doubts that it could, in fact, be done.
Musselwhite’s climactic performance was the first and best
in an uneven showcase of modern blues talent. Playing in a stripped
down duo format, he and his guitarist showed a grit and
authenticity that the other performers ““ Booker T. Jones and
Robert Cray ““ were sorely lacking. This was blues at its most
honest, songs of women and whiskey and life lived too fast: the man
was actually born in Memphis before migrating to Chicago. It
doesn’t get any more real than that.
Musselwhite combines harmonica virtuosity with an incredibly
subtle, nuanced intonation and an affecting, heartfelt vocal style.
The highlight of his set was the fairly epic ballad of infidelity,
“She May Be Your Woman But She Sure Do Come To See Me
Sometimes.” It was during this song that he delivered his
sultry solo, with surprisingly evocative sound effects
corresponding to the respective events of “2 a.m.,”
“4 a.m.,” and, exhaustedly, “6 a.m.” But
this was simply the most diverting example of Musselwhite’s
consistently uncanny ability to portray the wide range of emotion
and experience that the blues strive to express.
His guitar player was also the best of the three playing that
night, outshining even the vaunted Robert Cray with his tight solos
and rock-solid comp work.
The night’s second performer was Booker T. Jones of Booker
T. and the MGs fame. Jones played a thoroughly inoffensive set of
standard tracks that read like the track list to a Fisher-Price
“My First Chicago Blues Album.” Hits like his most
famous song “Green Onions” were clean and entertaining,
but not much more than that.
By far the most disappointing part of the night was Robert
Cray’s performance. Cray ““ once an accomplished blues
guitarist ““ seems to have, of late, taken the easy road of
slipping into adult contemporary music and in the meantime has lost
his artistic relevance. Many of his songs couldn’t rightly be
called blues; they’re nothing more than soulful pop.
Apparently he knows his audience, as the crowd couldn’t get
enough of his pseudo blues. The whole time, countless middle-aged
white males felt compelled to show off their hipness and ability to
relate by yelling “Oh yeah,” and “Sing it!”
(yeah, really) every few bars.
Despite the weak songwriting, Cray is an excellent guitarist;
and in the rare moments when he allowed himself some solo freedom,
there were some riffs that made the whole enterprise almost
worthwhile.
Ultimately, the show was worth it all, if for no reason other
than Charlie Musselwhite’s incredible performance. Apart from
that, the music was safe and easy but enjoyable enough for those
who don’t ask it to be anything else.