POP MUSIC REVIEWS : King Soars--Once He Breaks the Sound Barrier

Albert King is a man true to his word. Oh sure, he’s said a number of times in the last few years that he was retiring, only to resurface with another tour or album. But when a problem with sound prompted him to tell a somewhat rowdy crowd at the Rhythm Cafe Saturday that “I ain’t going to leave until they do get it right,” he wasn’t jiving.

The sound glitch he was referring to wasn’t really apparent out in the audience, except for occasional bits of feedback when adjustments were made. But, according to band members after the show, King wasn’t happy with what he was hearing from his guitar amp at the start of the set, and a half-hour’s worth of fine-tuning didn’t seem to produce the desired tones.

Finally, a piece of cardboard was put between the speaker and the pick-up microphone and the self-proclaimed “godfather of the blues” was satisfied. He then kept his promise, for more than 90 minutes.

That first half-hour found King distracted and testy, his famous (infamous?) temperament fully on display. He would cut short a burning series of licks to go back and fiddle with the dials, then strum loud chords to test the results while one of the other members of his quintet soloed. Such King staples as Elmore James’ “Sky Is Crying” were hurt by these antics. But when they finally did get it right, King took off.

His ability to tell a story with his guitar remains fully intact. His solos were packed with runs of clipped, crystalline notes, usually followed by a pair of contrasting softer chords. He punished his strings with strongly bent tones and sizzling slides up and down the guitar neck (at one point, such tough technique led to a broken string that King himself replaced on stage as the tune continued).

Though his accompaniment of other players seemed misplaced at times, or designed to take attention away from the soloist, he would redeem himself with smart echoes of tenor saxophonist Charles Campbell’s lyrical phrases or rhythm guitarist Randell Boykins’ crying lines. His tone during his trademark, descending three-chord stop-break endings was especially rich, and was heightened by the tight unison of his band.

King’s voice retains much of the strong, woody quality that distinguished his sound during his heyday with the Stax label in the ‘60s. But much of his characteristic smoke has turned to ash, especially in the higher register. This somewhat softer approach proved attractive, though, during such slower, quiet numbers as “As the Years Go Passing By” (a tune first aired on his now classic “Born Under a Bad Sign” recording).

Surprisingly, his voice seemed to gain strength as the evening progressed. By the time he got to his signature tune, “I’ll Play the Blues for You,” he was shouting at full-throttle. The closer, “Stormy Monday,” was given a particularly forceful reading; his voice became more intimate again during an encore of “Born Under a Bad Sign.”

His band prefaced his appearance with a strong, stripped-down version of Mercer Ellington’s “Things Ain’t What They Used to Be” followed by a soulful reading of Herbie Hancock’s funk anthem “Chameleon.” Marcus Miller-styled bassist Jimmy Kinard and drummer Cedric “Cowboy” McGory kept “Chameleon” hopping while tenor man Campbell brought the house down with a long, revolving figure, achieved with rotary breathing, that seemed to go on for more than a minute.

Rhythm guitarist Boykins proved to be a solid improviser himself, working longer lines and leaving less open space than King. Boykins often stepped in to fill the gap while King was working on his sound in the first half-hour, and these were some of the show’s most rewarding moments.

King didn’t take the opportunity to announce another retirement; in fact, near the end of the show, he proclaimed that he loves being the godfather of the blues and would “be there” for us. Let’s hold him to his word.

The Fry Sum Blues Band opened the show with a set that covered tunes from Sonny Boy Williamson, Willie Dixon and Little Richard. Fry Sum’s sound, recently buttressed with the addition of Hammond B-3 organist Paul Kallestad, is tight but not stiff, and is highlighted by singer/harmonica player Bob Lesher’s no-nonsense approach.

Lead guitarist Jay Summers, who plays a dual tail-fins guitar similar to King’s, showed a bit of Mose Allison-style delivery on his own up-tempo “Sweet Little Woman.” This outfit, based in Orange County, is the kind you want to see in a bar with a dance floor.