Blues in the (African) Night

A Welsh friend and I attended an open-air, blues concert in downtown Dakar last night. Now, blues is not my favorite type of music. I prefer bluegrass; or "classical" music in many of it's varieties--renaissance, baroque, classical, etc. Or folk and “world” music (klezmer; mariachi, etc.); or hymns, especially early American shape-note hymnody, and contemporary “re-hymns” (old hymn texts set to new tunes); or jazz, especially bebop, Dixieland, and swing; or Western swing, ragtime, reggae, stride piano, zydeco, or even Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Nevertheless, seeking a little bit of home at a cost less than round trip airfare, I took in a concert by the Chicago Blues Quintet. As it turns out, sixty percent of the Chicago Blues Quintet is not from Chicago, but from France. The Americans, Maurice John Vaughn and B. J. Emory, have been performing together in Chicago for nearly 20 years. On their European tours, they team up with a band led by Frederic Brousse, and brought them with them to Senegal for this, their first-ever African gig.

Vaughn is the musical and personality leader of the group, the happiest blues singer you ever did see, with an unexpectedly light, even zany stage presence. A roly-poly, joking, fella-next-door suburban family man, he is also a world class blues guitarist (we didn’t get to hear enough of it), and a more than serviceable backup blues keyboardist. I can’t comment on his ability on sax, as he inexplicably never played it. He’s had a successful career as a concert and recording side-man, but has also made a mark as a soloist. According to one bio I’ve read online, Guitar World magazine called his debut solo CD, humorously titled Generic Blues Album (Alligator/AL 4763), blues album of the year.

Emory is a gutsy vocalist and a bland trombonist, both skills benefiting from great tone, pitch and presence, and both suffering from lack of melodic and improvisational interest.

For me, the musical revelation of the evening came from Fred Brousse, the leader of the act’s talented French contingent. Though an above average lead guitarist, and a decent singer, Brousse deserves worldwide fame as a harmonica player. Seriously. Brousse’s performance-opening, 5-minute, unaccompanied solo was no less than extraordinary, and was alone worth the price of admission. It was Ella Fitzgerald, Chicago, Ravel, a train, James Brown, and Billie Holliday all wrapped into one. I’ve heard excellent harmonica before, but I have never heard harmonica with such nuance, variety, depth, guts, emotion, and virtuosity. In fact, I never could have imagined it was capable of such nuance, variety, depth, guts, emotion, and virtuosity.

An enjoyable evening overall, a welcome and, at $6, affordable taste of home, clearly appreciated by the initially staid French crowd, and receiving rave reviews from my Welsh friend, for whom it was anything but a taste of home. I'd like to hear more Vaughn, especially his stellar guitar work, though I'd recommend he steer clear of doo-wop in the future.

But I would go well out of my way, and gladly pay more, to hear Fred Brousse on the harmonica again, with or without other performers.