Jose opened for Joe in Jacksonville

Well I don't ever remember hearing that live.  And some nerve pulling that out of the hat without consulting me first...HARRUMPH.  So at 8:00 PM the stampede began in the dark; because of course Jose was on stage.  Nobody else was, but Jose was.     Sitting in a chair with a microphone on a stand and a very sporty set of congas & bongos to his left in front of an empty chair.

So of course he got a round of applause from those of us who "were all in our places, with bright shining faces..." oh scuze me.  And he starts playing Palm Trees, Helicopters, Gasoline, etc and I realized I was holding my breath.  I was reminded of when the masters from back in my day would wonder off to a corner with an acoustic guitar and weave some magical spell and we would pause long enough re-attach our jaws.

No wall of amplifiers.  No fully pumped band.  No roar.  Just real guitar playing and the alcoholics (LOL) and newbies so full of grace trying not to step on one another reaching their seats...Polite applause and Seagull and then Tal joined up and sat at the percussion keeping time and the dust began to settle in the audience.  I started hearing some wows and a whistle or two.  It was becoming obvious to folks that whatever they were saying or starting to say had become insignificant if not forgotten.  A young Master was holding court in a fashion we had not often seen before.

By the start of Dislocated Boy, Robert Johnson's presense was felt.  Joe had quietly and forcefully gathered the crowd in and had begun to show the funky, soulful side of his love of music.  So powerful...we clapped when Tal clapped.  We stomped our feet when Joe did.  He chopped that guitar, flat picking and singing his **** off all the way through the old and the new; Driving Toward the Daylight and Tal took a solo, blistering his percussion and shredding the tape off his fingers.

The crowd roared it's complete approval, but when he hit the opening chords of Woke Up Dreaming, the veterans in the crowd started screaming and elbowing one another and it was all Joe, once again.  When he hit that closing walkdown to WUD, the place exploded, many on their feet.  I thought to myself, Can you just be any slicker?  I thought I was cool.

But oh NO!!!  Lights and the Slow Train locomotive of blues came pounding up into full consciousness and there was no room in my poor tortured brain for anything else...well there was a woman or two that caught my eye, but that's all part of the deal right?  I heard Dust Bowl and some Howling Wolf and I saw guitars most exquisite.

Rick was filling it out with all manner of keys wizardry, he is so good.  Carmine was playing a 4 string again, (why not) and thundering and pushing and Tal reminded me of Animal on Sesame Street.  High praise indeed.

In a nod to the Irish they switched on their dynamics button and tribute to Gary Moore was played.  Those Midnight Blues was sung like he meant it and that solo on that LesPaul was choke up material.  RIP so many of my favorites, when I hear that song.

Who killed John Henry was arranged a little differently and rock stomping.  Hit material.  STAR material.  Not a hit though...pfui.

But I confess during Wee Wee hours and Yonder Wall, that face melting tone of that hollow body 350 put me over the edge into BluesFromTheBottoms turf.  My old school roots shorted me out and I was transported to another time and place.  Thanks to Joe's virtuosity and versatility and that killer bands ability to manage dynamics at a nod or a cue, I was not alone when I leapt to my feet and lost my voice.

Unfortunately I had some things at home I had to tend to so I left early.  2 hours through the fog...

Shout out to Ken & Susan. Love you guys.  I couldn't talk then But I'll call you.  Tomorrow I'll tell y'all about Orlando...which was even better.

Will that be alright?

MuchLove
BJJ FDOL