By Devon Wendell
It was a down home evening at the The Hollywood Bowl, Wednesday night, with a program featuring three of the greatest legends of the blues and boogie-down soul. Kicking off the festivities: blues harp player James Cotton, a Chicago blues innovator who has performed and recorded for over 65 years as a solo act behind such blues luminaries as Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Otis Spann.
James Cotton
As the seventy-four year old Cotton hunkered down in his chair in his bright red suit, he opened the band’s short set with two instrumentals, both inspired by Little Walter, Cotton’s idol and mentor of the Chicago blues harmonica style. The first, an uptown boogie shuffle, was reminiscent of Walter’s classic “Juke”; the second was a slow, alley music supreme nod to Walter’s “Quarter To Twelve,” enhanced by Cotton’s own distinct, upper register harp bends, and low note groans. Though looking tired at times, Cotton poured every ounce of his energy, wisdom, and, experience into every note, cupping the harp in his two hands, eyes closed, and totally emerged in his timeless, Windy City, South Side tavern dwelling sound.
Backing him, Cotton’s no-nonsense band kept everything in the pocket with an acute awareness of subtle coloring and tasteful sense of space recalling the work of Chicago’s most legendary blues rhythm section of the 1950’s, The Aces. Guitarist Slam Allen took the lead vocal slot on Muddy Water’s “Blow Wind Blow” and “Got My Mojo Workin’” respecting the originals by the father of Chicago blues. Then the band cut loose with Allen’s Guitar Slim-like style trading licks with guitarist Tom Holland’s more country twang.
The set ended with the late Jimmy Roger’s “That’s All Right,” with Allen’s smooth r&b vocals accompanied by tight rhythm backing from the Neal brothers — bassist Noel and drummer Kenny Jr. Cotton’s soloing was so strong that the moment the band thought he was done, he turned and shouted, “Nah, just one more time,” with his harmonica frighteningly incarnating Roger’s vocal tone and phrasing — a perfect way to close the set.
Dr. John
Up next was Dr. John & Lower 9-ll. The legendary Doctor strutted out on stage, heading directly to his grand piano with his signature rattle snake cane and dark shades. His Lower 9-11 band immediately dug into John’s one and only New Orleans swamp boogie funk, starting with the a slick reading of “St. James,” from John’s 2004 album Dis Dat Or D’Udda. John’s sly vocals, and strong Zydeco piano style (powerful enough to make the late Professor Long Hair proud) combined with the ultra funkified horn hooks of trumpeter Greg Adams and saxophonists Michael Paolu and Johnny Bamont, giving the evening a true Mardi Gras feel. The Doctor, though, often seemed disengaged from both the audience and band members. The boastful “Qualified,” was energized by the great slap bass grooves of David Barard, and John took the level higher when he switched from piano to electric guitar for Louis Jordan’s “Let the Good Times Roll.”
The Doctor and company also ran through his most recognizable hits — “Right Place, Wrong Time,” “Say What” and Johnny Mercer’s classic “Accentuate the Positive.” But, although the band was solid with its Meters-like soulful interplay, the set seemed tired and redundant in places, until it closed with a touching reference to the Katrina devastation of John’s home town of New Orleans in ‘Save Our Wetlands.”
Buddy Guy
Then came Buddy Guy, headlining the show, and taking no prisoners with a truly electrifying performance. His awe-inspiring band — guitarist Ric Hall, bassist Orlando Wright, keyboardist Marty Sammons and drummer Tim Austin — immediately launched into “The Best Damn Fool,” from Buddy’s 2007 album Skin Deep. Guy grabbed hiscream colored Stratocaster and slammed right into the strings, bending notes to magnificently unknown places. Warning the audience about what to expect, he said, “Man if you don’t like the blues, you’ve come to the wrong place,” with a one-of-a-kind, commanding stage presence and witty banter perfectly complimenting the intensity of his guitar playing and vocals.
The band kept a close eye on Guy because he never follows a set list, playing what he wants, when he wants to, without breaking between songs. He segued into Muddy Water’s “Hoochie Coochie Man,” vocally summoning up the ghost of his former mentor and occasional employer with guitar playing that felt like Zeus throwing bolts of lightning down from Mount Olympus.
Guy played long, screaming runs with confident, reckless abandon, then turned down the volume and played soft and sweet, while the band kept pace with an amazing sense of dynamics. He went into some his infamous stage antics, like playing with one hand while humorously pointing his right index finger at the front row with each note, then rubbing the neck of his ax against his chest. Having to play second guitar behind a leader with that kind of charisma cannot be an easy task, but Hall went toe to toe with his boss, delivering a refreshingly original style, incorporating fast trills and finger tapping, keeping Guy on his toes.
Guy also paid loving homage to his fallen comrades of the blues, with Freddy King’s “Love Her With A Feeling,” in which he threw in some of his own improvised risqué lyrics, belting out, “One leg in the East, one in the West, I’m right there in the middle just trying to do my best.” Sammons added wonderfully fluid and daring keyboard work and inspired some great call and response between his lines and Guy’s guitar playing.
Other tunes roved further into the wide territory of the blues. “You better not mess up these songs, I know you know ‘em,” Guy teased the audience before going into “Slippin’ In,” an ultra funky number with terrific blues-funk bass popping by Wright. On the introspective, gospel-flavored ballad “Skin Deep,” Guy brilliantly played an electric sitar with sweet, subtle phrasing very different from his guitar style. And on O.V. Wright’s minor classic, “Drowning On Dry Land,” he took off into the audience, walking up the aisles, even taking hold of a woman’s hand and using it to pick the guitar as he flew across the fret board. Returning to the stage, he grabbed one of drummer Tim Austin’s spare drum sticks and used it as a slide, creating a brilliant, ambient effect unlikely to be repeated again.
Guy also demonstrated that he’s not only one of the greatest guitarists alive, but also a true blues crooner in the same class as Bobby “Blue” Bland and Johnny Taylor. He perfectly simulated John Lee Hooker on the late master’s “Boom, Boom, Boom,” crossing it with a playful poke at one of Guy’s worshiping disciples, Eric Clapton, applying one of his great falsetto vocals to an amusing version of Cream’s “Strange Brew.”
A funky arrangement of “Mustang Sally” was the final number. Each band member soloed, and Buddy’s closing solo was a tornado of wild virtuosity, silencing anyone who would dare to question why everyone from Clapton, Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan to Carlos Santana, John Mayer and generations of six stringers have crowned Guy as the greatest guitarist of all time.
Costa made it clear at the beginning of the evening, however, that – although her recent recordings embrace many other genres – the duo would concentrate upon bossa nova for this particular concert And, for an American audience (liberally sprinkled with Southland Brazilians), it was an excellent decision. Initially flowing from the compositions of Antonio Carlos Jobim and the guitar playing and singing of Joao Gilberto, bossa nova has been, for the past half century, one of the world’s most popular and far reaching international forms of music.
“Corcovado,” “Desafinado,” “Triste,” “Insensatez,” “A Felicidade” and “”Garota de Ipanema” among them. On many, the Brazilians in the audience sang along with Costa, a common practice in Brazil, underscoring the intimacy of the program. The only English language song (other than a verse in “Garota de Ipanema” – “The Girl From Ipanema”) was “As Time Goes By,” sung by Costa with the same sort of convincing, story-telling qualities she brought to the other songs. And, with “Aquarela do Brasil,” her singing and Castro-Neves stirring guitar rhythms provided an echo of the samba foundations of bossa nova.