POP MUSIC REVIEW : Johnnie Taylor Reaches the Soul in 9th Long Beach Blues Festival

Johnnie Taylor’s flashy, classic soul revue might strike some purists as inappropriate for a blues festival, but only the most curmudgeonly would deny the rousing response his performance elicited at the first day of the ninth annual Long Beach Blues Festival on Saturday. His headlining set capped a day that saw performers whose music falls on the slicker side of the blues, like Taylor and Ruth Brown, taking top honors.

It took all of five seconds for the brassy riff of Taylor’s 1968 hit “Who’s Makin’ Love” to send an electric jolt into the audience. The tighter-than-tight nine-piece ensemble kept the audience on its feet throughout a medley of blue chip standards--”Down Home Blues,” “Baby What You Want Me To Do?” “Stormy Monday”--that blues veterans could do without hearing again . . . except when they’re performed as powerfully and passionately as they were Saturday.

But Taylor wasn’t even on stage to sing those songs--trombonist-vocalist Malcolm Robertson did, and he may have eclipsed his boss. Taylor’s gospel-drenched singing was hardly lacking in power, but it almost seemed secondary, a vehicle for establishing his persona as the roguish ladies’ man. Taylor worked hard, his hunched-over body stance suggested that of a boxer as he prowled the stage.

It was pure uptown soul--the band outfitted in tails and red cummerbunds, Taylor in a sparkling gold jacket, a valet on hand to dispense towels when the star needed to mop his brow--that is both part of a time-tested tradition and potentially wearisome. But the command of musical dynamics and vocal timing that Taylor and his band displayed kept their sparkling set fresh and vital, even if including “Disco Lady” was stretching even the ever more elastic boundaries of the blues.

There were a few other new developments for the festival this year, starting with a shift in location to a larger athletic field at Cal State Long Beach.

And there were constants--like the estimated attendance of 7,000-8,000 people (matching last year’s average turnout), plus the comfortable outdoor ambiance and people-watching opportunities.

The New Orleans tandem of guitarist Walter Washington and vocalist Johnny Adams hinged their opening set on a melange of jazzy chord progressions, choppy funk rhythms and more standard R&B; fare that never really took off. Veteran Chicago harmonica player James Cotton turned in an abysmal performance undercut by a hapless guitarist and overwhelmed by a hyperactive drummer who constantly forced the tempos.

Ruth Brown’s set restored the proper balance almost from the instant her sextet locked into finger-snapping, jazzy blues grooves colored by the saxophone harmonies of Red Holloway and Charles Williams. Brown hit some high notes that nearly strained the eardrum tolerance level and incorporated a few too many ballads and standards that would work in a jazz night club setting.

But her early ‘50s R&B; hits for Atlantic like “5-10-15 Hours” and the set-closing “Mama, He Treats Your Daughter Mean” brought most of the crowd to their feet and provided the festival with its first real highlight. Albert King’s workmanlike set kept the flame flickering, even if the concluding “Blues at Sunrise” was the only selection that caught fire with several prototypical King solo choruses.