SHOW AFFIRMS THAT B. B. KING REIGNS

How do you like your blues served up? Greasy or gritty? Fast and funky, or blue and sentimental? Instrumental or vocal? Male or female?

Whatever one’s predilection, the B. B. King show has the recipe. At the Tuesday opening of his Concerts by the Sea engagement (closing tonight) he drew a standing ovation simply for walking on stage, and kept the capacity crowd in his thrall for better than an hour.

The career of the blues king has long moved in a steady direction. Occasionally a record producer has tried to change his image by steering him away from the idiom that has served him so well, but when he works a club for a crowd of obviously loyal aficionados, he heads for home base, singing and playing some of the same lyrics and licks that may well have delighted the parents of these same fans.

Although the impression was created of an entire blues set, King mixes it up now and then by singing a 32-bar blues-ballad or by tossing in an occasional instrumental in which Lucille, his six-stringed alter ego, is the dominant voice.

Some of the songs (“It’s Just a Matter of Time,” “When I’m Wrong I’m Wrong”) seemed new to this perennial King-watcher; but the old reliables, from “Every Day” to “Tain’t Nobody’s Business,” were still on hand, the gutsy voice and florid guitar lines as infectious as always.

Surprisingly, King closed his set with two pieces belted out by the tall, slender, attractive Debra Boston, whose roots-conscious blues shouting is well accented by her sinuous gyrations. But when the audience refused to let the show end, King encored with “The Thrill Is Gone,” vintage 1966.

King’s six-piece band, led by the saxophonist Eddie Synigal, warmed up with two uptown Saturday night soul numbers, but seemed more at ease backing the star, with one or two after-hours solos by Eugene Carrier on piano and organ, and Leon Warren on guitar. Here again there was a contrast between the rough-and-ready sound of the group and the more polished ensembles heard on one or two of those albums. In the studio the producer may give orders, but at Concerts by the Sea, when the lights go down low, only B.B. is king.