John Mayall was kind of a tool the last time I met him, but given his legendary status and
all I decided to give him a second chance when he returned to Milestones on
Saturday, September 10.
Mayall’s
band, The Bluesbreakers, was
mirror-slick and totally in the pocket. It was Bluesbreaker guitarist Buddy
Whittington (who replaced Coco Montoya in the band in 1993) who particularly
shined. The Dallas native crosscut and twanged tight atop the band’s solid
groove before Mayall took the stage. Mayall focused mainly on material from his
latest album Road Dogs and shifted
easily from harp to electric piano to one of those ridiculous looking stick
guitars — I don’t care if Johnny Winter plays one, they look stupid.
Mayall
was a whole white generation’s intro to the blues and he proved why to a
packed, thrilled, white house. Though his blues are a little safe these days,
the groove is solid and the vibe still righteous.
Paulie Rocco warmed up the joint — just him and his Firebird and the blues. Rocco bleeds
passion and soul and surprised the crowd who initially didn’t know what to make
of a longhaired cat diggin’ from the Delta to Chi-town… to Ireland. I mean,
when’s the last time anyone played Rory Gallagher on stage in Rochester?
Later
that night The Franks (best band
name in the world) played a set of new music off their yet untitled album at
the Bug Jar. Dan Frank is a garage rock cat through and through and seeing him
on stage with big rock powerhouse drummer John Campbell is a study in an
intermusical marriage. It’s funny to watch the band color outside the lines a
little, especially when Campbell throws in some Filthy Phildouble kick.
And
though loud ‘n’ bluesy show openers (and Chesterfield King protรฉgรฉs, or how
about Chesterfield Princes?) St.
Phillip’s Escalator are fairly derivative, they are one of the fresher and
more exciting bands in town right now. Maybe I’m just excited when kids rock
out like Blue Cheer and The MC-5. SPE looks the part, too, all stove-piped and
shaggy.
Monday
night — the night when only the hardcores make it out of their caves —
Seattle’s The Makers returned with Blรผdwรผlf and The UV Rays. Though touting a new record, The Makers played a set
of mostly classic tunes that spanned their 15-year career. The audience was a
little light but the band rocked enthusiastically with frontman Michael Maker
morphing between Tom Jones and Tina Turner and Prince. Face it, the man is
pretty and he knows it. As Little Richard used to say; he ain’t conceited, he’s
convinced.
Blรผdwรผlf
warmed up the night with dual dueling guitars that were so friggin’ loud the
bass was completely buried. The UV Rays teetered on the brink of maybe being a
little too drunk and they played a slightly mellower — if that’s possible —
set. The whole lot of them bob, bound, stagger, and fall on stage as if they’re
playing on a ship during a storm.
This
past Saturday night I got to catch Footage for the first time. This band has some really well written indie-ish tunes.
They are in essence a pop band without the frosting. The edgy guitars countered
the melody and the band’s casual charm. Usually when I see a Flying V on stage I
expect crazier shit, like Michael Schenker or something. I was pleasantly
surprised and entertained. Can’t wait to hear more from this band.
This article appears in Sep 21-27, 2005.
