B.B. King 24th June MEN Arena, Manchester, England
The crowd is hot, bustling and tight, the seats are packed densely, the air is stale, reused and swallowed in swirls of cigarette smoke.
The MEN is full of shaking grey and balding heads, all clenched together in the bulging heat. Plastic glasses swell and crush under our grips, the last kiss of lagers slipping down dusty throats.
Finally the stage is set, the lights drop, cheers rustle in the audience like the sprinkling of fuel on flame. The band emerges, the aged heads of one of blues tightest and most loved backing acts. They strike up, the jazzy swinging 12 bar opening grabs at the blood of the masses, they are transformed, they are up and awaiting in awe. Eyes flit to the side of the stage, begging to be met with the figure of the King of Blues.
Finally, as if straining under his very name, Riley King emerges, slowly stepping inch by inch onto the stage. He takes a seat on his shimmering throne, is handed the luscious black Lucille, strings shining in the spotlight, his fingers caress around the neck softly, knowingly, lovingly. The music whirls around him. He lifts an arm in a wave, then plays, as if his life has led him just for this introduction. He plays that warm glossy tone, his hands waving like wings as the notes fly and soar from him.
“Yeah” he laughs into the microphone “I know what you’re all thinking, ‘Cant stand up on stage no more, he can’t have no soul no more’ well… we’ll see”
Music From a King
B.B. King, 83, still holds every attention as a performer. Each of his words are treasured by the audience, collected with wide ears like a proclamation.
His set is truly awe-inspiring, a wide selection from decades of recording. Each musician sparkles, each thriving in the wondrous knowledge and fine aged talent. Each improvisation leaves the audience wide-jawed hungry for the next. B.B’s voice still tears out of him when he digs deep. His fingers still work beautifully, picking notes subtly and sublimely like diamonds from the dark.
Tales of Corner and Clapton
But it is the stories, the chatter in between songs that raise the warmth inside, the simple softly dropped tales of Alexis Corner and Eric Clapton, the jokes, the laments of love, women and music. The nurturing lesson-like preaching he lends us, without accusation or argument, is heartfelt and beautiful, just an old man’s warmth and wisdom spread for the masses.
Throughout the night B.B. keeps softly laughing, saying “Man I don’t want to go, really I don’t wanna have to leave you people, you are wonderful!”. It tenders a glow in the heart. His smile, his shuffle of laughter, his clear emotion still tearing through the music
As wonderful as it all felt, the nights end is bittersweet. B.B. leaves the stage saying “I really, really hope I get to see you again”. It is near tearful, he actually means it, he actually loves what he does, he actually cares for an audience.
In an age where music seems to be based around fashion and understatement, this night was a beacon of regal glory. B.B King, an old man can still spread true emotion far and wide, he can still tighten the heart with his words and his beautiful guitar. He remains genuinely and truly passionate. Long Live the King.
Let him come back again.
Please…
Let him come back again.
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