Thursday was Mama Rosa's birthday party (a day before the actual event).
There was supposed to be food and I saw evidence of it (submarine
sandwiches, I think) but it was all gone before I got there. Lurrie
Bell, the man I came to see, was on stage when I arrived. Someone opined
that Lurrie had been having trouble with his singing lately. His voice
did sound a little too thin and a little too far back in his throat.

    On first impression, after a song or two, both his singing and playing
sounded about like they had the last time I saw him at Rosa's, a month
ago. He was brilliant but in an ordinary way, enjoyable but not
incandescent. Last night he was in a trio configuration, with bass and
drums. Vamp was on bass and he's terrific. The drummer, whose name I
don't remember, is also great. They are both solid, relentless and
seemingly always able to figure out where Lurrie is going.

    One quick thing I should say about myself. I don't pretend to be a
reporter. I might know people's names and forget them, or get them
wrong, or not know them at all. I don't take notes and I know more first
names than last. You won't get detailed set lists or band rosters from
me. That's not what this is about.

    Lurrie and company took a break shortly after I got there. Band members
on break usually head for a group of friends in the bar, or for the door
to do whatever in the van. Lurrie usually heads for a chair near the
wall in one of the room's darkest corners. Thursday night that happened
to be next to me, at the bar, in front by the coffee machine. He
finished a sandwich, sipped on a beverage and smoked (he is an
accomplished bummer of smokes), but mostly he blew a harp, accompanying
whatever song was on the PA at that moment (quite well, by the way). We
didn't chat. Lurrie doesn't chat.

    Little Mack Simmons, who presides over what seems to be evolving into
"Thursday Night with Little Mack Simmons and a Whole Shit Load of
Friends," took the stage after the break. Mack turned 65 in January. He
sits down for some of his set. Maybe he should sit for more, but it
doesn't seem possible for him to stay down for long. He likes to roam
off the stage and vigorously punch the air with his arms when he sings.

    Mack was born and raised in Arkansas. As a young man he moved to St.
Louis, where he worked with Robert Nighthawk. He came to Chicago in the
fifties and has been a regular in the Chicago blues clubs ever since. He
recorded on Checker and other labels.

    Little Mack Simmons has a rich, smooth voice, used to great effect on
ballads like "Dock of the Bay" and "Stormy Monday." He is also a
terrific harp player. Young harp players (there was one there last
night) love their leather holsters and fancy cases with each instrument
nestled in its own cozy foam rubber cove. Mack has his thrown into an
old brief case with CDs he has to sell, a towel, maybe his lunch. It
doesn't seem to hurt his playing one bit.

    Hiro was on guitar with Mack. I am really starting to appreciate Hiro. I
will confess to having a prejudice that the best a non-black blues
player can ever aspire to is technical achievement. There always seems
to be something missing in the passion department. Last night Hiro moved
me off that position, at least a little. The passion isn't missing, it's
just different. Hiro clearly loves the music and loves to play it,
passionately. He is also a true virtuoso player. I didn't believe him
when he sang how he was "Born Under a Bad Sign," but I felt more
appreciation for his art last night.

    After Mack's set there was a brief break as a group of "guests" took the
stage. "Guest" sets anywhere (not just at Rosa's) are always a risk. You
just don't know what you are going to get and sometimes you don't want
to, or wish you hadn't. This was not one of those nights. I can't offer
too much by way of names, but they were all familiar Rosa's faces. Jerry
with the funky mustache was on guitar and Lorenzo Thompson did a rousing
howlin' Wolf impression (interpretation? channeling?). There aren't that
many Wolf-style growlers around any more. We need more of them. Lorenzo
always leaves me wanting to hear more from him.

    Through all of this, Lurrie Bell is still sitting next to me at the bar.
He sings every word of every song out loud, at full volume. He
accompanies every solo on harp. He also develops a mean percussive thing
with his foot that vibrates the whole vicinity, and nobody vibrates a
vicinity like Lurrie. This is not as irritating or distracting as it
sounds. For one thing, he knows all the words, sings well and plays harp
well. How often can you say that about a guy who sits next to you at the
bar and sings along with too much enthusiasm?

    As the "guests" played on, I began to worry that Lurrie's set was being
delayed too long. During the "guest" set he seemed to crash and confirm
my worst fears. He put his head down on the bar for a minute, then
started to move around the room, checking the bar's other darkest
corners, roosting eventually, by himself, at the table by the mix
console. He was no longer playing the harp and wasn't singing with as
much enthusiasm, but the "guest" band finally won him over, and he
really sparked when Little Mack joined them for their last song, which I
think was "Help Me (I can't Do It by Myself)." (Mack sang that song at
some point last night, I think it was then.)

    After another very short set-up break, Lurrie came on, with a different
band, now including a harp player. Maybe the musicians weren't all
different. There were a lot of musicians jumping on and off the stage.
Who was that guy with the six-string bass? He played a very sweet solo
on the high end of that thing. Cool stage moves too.

    This time, Lurrie was incandescent, wild, otherworldly. Nobody can
twitch like Lurrie. Five or six different expressions can cross his face
in a millisecond and the movements of his feet are almost as complicated
and rapid fire as his fingering. He ended the brief but killer set by
playing the same two notes over and over for what seemed like ten
minutes. You wouldn't think that could be entertaining but it was
awesome. When he is at his best, you watch a Lurrie Bell performance
like you do a high wire act. Can he make it all the way to the other
side of the tent on just that tiny B string? Will he fall to a horrible,
bone shattering death? You hold your breath, your heart is in your
throat, your jaw drops, drool forms in the corners of your*no, never
mind, too much metaphor.

    So now Lurrie Bell has finished his set and that should be enough blues
entertainment for any one human, right? Nope. After another brief band
change, Chico Banks took over with another new drummer and bass player
and cranked it up again. Chico was great, I like him a lot, I gave his
CD to my brother for Christmas, but I was too tired to listen and left
during his "Stormy Monday." One "Stormy Monday" a night is my limit.

    Traffic was light in the cold, Chicago night as I headed North on
Kimball for home.

by Charles K. Cowdery

 
 

Calendar | Mamma Rosa & Tony | Souvenirs |  Photos  | Directions | Blues Cruise | News | Book your party

For musicians | Anniversary | Magic Nights | Contact us | Join Rosa's e-mail list