| A few words with The King of the Blues |
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By John Orr August 2003
Sounding cranky and tired over the phone from Reno, B.B. King recently disabused this reporter of some long-held notions.
Tired because he'd just gotten off the bus after the long trip from Las Vegas, had phone interviews to give, then a little rest, then a show, then it's back on the bus for a show in Kelseyville, then Sacramento, then Fresno, then Concord.
The man may be slowing down, at only about 200 shows a year -- as opposed to the 342 one-nighters he and his band did in 1956 -- but at age 77, he's still making a lot of music.
And cranky, maybe, because he's never liked it when anyone said -- or asked about -- something that wasn't absolutely true about him.
For instance, when asked if he still practices guitar three hours a day.
''Three hours a day! I never said I practiced three hours a day! Where'd you hear that?
By John Orr
My admiration of B.B. King is deep. He's not only one of the greatest blues musicians of all time, he's one of the greatest entertainers. He makes the music come alive and there's nobody better on stage.
And I love blues music.
So, I was grateful when my wife agreed to name our son, who was born on Nov. 30, 2001, Riley. ''Riley'' is B.B. King's birth name.
When I knew I was going to interview Mr. King again, for the first time in more than a decade, my wife asked if B.B. King had a son named Riley. I didn't know, so asked if there were other Riley Kings among his descendants.
''Several of them,'' King replied. ''My son is Riley Junior. His son is Riley the third, his son's son is another Riley.
''I'm not really ... the name is just there. It's not a name that I was so fond of, with the exception ... My Dad said he named me after a good man, Jim O'Riley.
''I asked him why he didn't name me ''O'Riley,'' and he said I didn't look Irish enough.
''When he was happy with me he called me 'Jack.' He never told me he loved me, never did. But that was his way of telling me he loved me, when he called me Jack.''
So, that story joins a list of coincidences regarding my son Riley's birth. My grandfather was John Sebastian Orr, my dad was John Pershing Orr and I was dubbed John Daniel Orr. But none of us were called ''John'' by the family -- until I insisted on being called John, starting in high school. To the family, I was Danny, my dad was Rusty and my grandfather -- a wonderful man with a fascinating Wild West history -- was called ''Jack.''
And that business about how, maybe, he has been inspired by other musicians, opening acts on the bill, who played so well that it made him want to play even better when he hit the stage.
Never happened. Never happened, and there is a tone in King's voice that indicates he thinks maybe he is talking with a fool.
''I'm a guy that's going to do the best I can do, each time I play. If there's just two people there, or just me, or a thousand people, I'm going to do the best I can do every time.
''That's the way it's been with me for most of my career. I've never been inspired, or vice-versa, by anybody ahead of me (on the bill). They are themselves, I am me.
''Even if it's Pavarotti -- who ever is ahead of me -- I might say, "They put me after who?' but I am still going to do the best I can do.''
The best B.B. King can do is the best this fool has ever seen on a blues stage, and best B.B. King show of several this fool has seen was, in fact, at the Concord Pavilion, in June 1991.
After a hot afternoon of blues music, King took the stage as the evening was cooling and delivered an amazing, thrilling guitar solo intro to ''All Over Again'' -- scary music, as chilling as Modest Moussorgsky's ``Night On Bald Mountain.''
''I've got a good mind to give up living,'' he sang, and the audience shuddered as one. ''And go shopping instead'' -- and the audience burst into laughter -- until King kept up with ''And pick out me a tombstone -- oh! -- and be pronounced dead.''
King doesn't see himself as a great guitarist -- mediocre is the word he used the other day -- but what he is, at is best, is a grat entertainer. He started performing in Mississippi, for dimes, in a time and place when if 10 cents was to be given, it had to be earned. Just standing there picking a guitar and singing wasn't enough.
Those Delta farmhands were there to be entertained, to have a good time, and the man who has made ''Let the Good Times'' role one of his many signature tunes certainly knew -- and knows -- how to entertain.
On that night in Concord 12 years ago it seemed like King was connected with not only his great( band, but with the audience. There was a flow of music between the musicians and the audience, and it was a fabulous, delightful, awe-inspiring performance.
At other shows, King has been known to -- at least briefly -- turn his back on the audience, and just put it to the band -- it's cutting time! Work that tune!
But as he says, it's always all he has to give, the best he can do.
Visit B.B. King's website.
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