Sweet Home Chicago, 70 times over

On Saturday morning, I went to see Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. While she was a charismatic performer with a great Janice Joplin-esque voice, the songs didn't grab me the way I had hoped. And sometimes it seemed like she was working a little hard on the stage presence thing. I guess my lukewarm response to their performance was...well...either due to the fact that the coffee hadn't taken effect yet...or reflected in the fact that I only took about 5 photos of their set. And they were all blurry. Argh.

This is the best of the pack:


After this, shuffled over one of the main stages for Buddy Guy's show. Waited for what seemed like hours in the 90+ degree sun...but the wait (and the cooking) were well worth it. Needless to say, the contrasts (between the first two acts) could not be more stark.

Here is the legend himself, stepping onto the stage for the first time:


This man has earned every last ounce of his status as a legend. An absolutely arresting performer, charismatic...lecherous...and a guitar player to make the most accomplished weep in despair.

So...there's a word in that previous sentence which probably needs a little explanation. You see, most of the lyrical material that comprises The Blues is...well...blue. That is to say, the subject matter is often of an erotic nature. Buddy Guy takes an almost obscene glee in his interpretations of that subject matter.


Owns a famous blues bar in Chicago, appropriately titled Buddy Guy's Legends. Turned 70 years of age just about a month after his performance at Bonnaroo. Happy birthday, Buddy, and many happy returns!


What a joy the man was to watch. If you ever get a chance to see him perform live, do it. Travel, buy plane tickets, whatever you have to do, make it happen. He's not going to live forever, and you will have missed out in a huge way if you don't.