Kim Wilson and the Jeweltones at the Grand Emporium, Wednesday, February 23.
By El Dormido

Haven't been to a show at the new Grand Emporium for quite awhile, but
seeing Kim Wilson, heart of the Fabulous Thunderbirds, in a singular
setting, couldn't pass that up.

"Fingers" somebody was a no show opening act.  There were 25-30 people at
8:30 PM in a somewhat chilly room, people putting coats back after sitting
down.  "Kill Bill" is showing silent on one plasma screen on the wall
between the couch filled back room and the bar area.  Japanese Tom Cruise
samurai flick on the other.  Ronnie Baker Brooks on the sound system.

The band tunes, does last set up chores while Kim Wilson greets a couple in
the first row of tables, sits and chats a while.  Hearn Christopher appears,
disappears, hangs somewhere in the building.  Stan Koron visits around. 
Roger Naber drops in and settles in with management.  Lonesome Hank sets a
longneck down near the back, then moves up closer to the bandstand.

  Definitely an older crowd, just about my demographic, everything low key. 
Definitely date night as no "loose women" in evidence.

The show kicks with a shuffle, solid blue harp up front lead choruses,
".C'mon, baby, rock with me tonite."  Kim's harp break gets solid
appreciation, audience affirmatively clapping.

Next a slow blues on the chromatic, tasty guitar fills by Doug Demming,
Jeweltones leader.  The sound is full and solid, present rather than loud,
allowing the substance of the chromatic harp sound to fill the room.

"If you ever been mistreated." floats out over the audience.  Tight, choked
up yet precise guitar solo carries plaintive message of song using full
breadth of the fretboard.

"When I think of my baby, running around with some other guy." leads into a
chromatic moan of pain cascading through the lower registers, filling the
room, t resonating with dark emotion.

Reminds me of La Perfecta who spent time sitting on that old GE bar stool
soaking up the blues while her marriage turned ash in her mouth, the music
her only comfort.

Uptempo T-Bone style tune as the band fills the room with blues, bringing
substance fully regardless of audience size.  It's like a diner, no filler.

A jump blues pumps into the room.  Then a back-beat blues sails out.  The
show is taking off as more people filter in, a lot of old GE faces.

"If you a wrong doing person, the Lord will find you out.."  Change of pace
slow blues with a country feel, upright bass rumbles behind the front line. 
Reedy harp sound as Kim drops the bullet mic and blues over the vocal mic. 
Guitar gets inside it and lays it low.  Reminds me what I like about the
blues, alive and feeling, good or bad, but feeling true and alive to it,
real.

Kim Wilson 'wah-wahs' the harp through the bullet mic, sways in to the
lyric, making me miss moving with the woman who I moved with so well, the
music carrying the soul.

Another shuffle, harp like the full throated cry of a diesel engine running
on the rails through a shadowed valley, low down moan.  Then the guitar
spirals off into a ringing break.

It's tight, the appreciative audience feasting and giving back with shouts
of encouragement and appreciation.

The first set ends with a fast-paced outro, everybody eases back with
satisfaction, the blues came and made a statement.

Blues are important to me in different ways at different times.  There is
that raucous, roadhouse moment when the guitars spin out long, sinuous lines
and it is time to dance just for dance sake.

Then there is the earthy sensuality where you appreciate all the more the
woman you're with, dancing tight, then dancing hot and sexy.

Then there is the deep existential expression remarking on an anguish in the
human condition, born of the long hours in the auto plant, in the
unemployment line, with a faithless man.

Tonight what came to me was the solace of the blues, when a man or woman
suffering loss and heartbreak can feel that same pain expressed in the words
of the song, in the voice of the singer, in the sound of the guitar and
harp.

When we hear that, we know that we are not alone with our anguish.  We can
bear that which we share, with the songwriter, with the singer and players,
with everyone in the room who sway to the music and nod with identification
and understanding.  It brings comfort among to us all.  I understand better
what La Perfecta was talking now, the solace of the blues.  We are not
alone.

It was a very solid night, no slack, just substance, and I felt renewed. 
Sitting in Roger's new "BluesCruise" muraled landcruised with him, I shook
Kim Wilson's hand and thanked him for the truth in the blues.  He nodded,
smiled, and thanked me back.  It goes around, it comes around, we all get a
piece of it together, there ain't no between the bluesman and the blues
lover.  We all get the blues sometime