By Michael Swanger michael@dmcityview.com

A Fabulous Thunderbird dishes on the state of the blues

If you think discussions about the authenticity of blues music are passè in the 21st century, then you haven't talked to singer and harmonica player Kim Wilson. Founding frontman of 32 years for The Fabulous Thunderbirds, Grammy-nominated solo artist, maverick record label owner and icon to discerning blues lovers everywhere, Wilson is that rarest of artist who broke ground in the blues while following its tradition and enjoyed commercial success while earning critical acclaim. And he is as passionate talking about the blues as he is playing them.

"I want people to know when they saw me they saw the real deal," the 55-year-old Wilson says. "That all these years hanging around all these old guys have been very educational for me. That's why I don't like seeing people treat the music the way they do. I get violent about it; it's so upsetting to me."

Wilson's storied career is steeped in traditional blues. Born in Detroit in 1951, he was raised in California and fell in love with them during the late '60s, honing his chops with the likes of George "Harmonica" Smith, Luther Tucker and Pee Wee Crayton. Following a brief time fronting a band in Minneapolis, he moved in 1974 to Austin, Texas, and formed The Fabulous Thunderbirds with guitarist Jimmie Vaughan.

The T-Birds cut their teeth during the '70s as the house band at the legendary nightclub Antone's, where they played with a Who's Who list of blues gods like Muddy Waters, Jimmy Rogers and Buddy Guy. Their peerless musicianship helped earn them respect from their mentors and garnered them a loyal following. Waters even called Wilson "the greatest harmonica player to come along since Little Walter."

In 1986, the T-Birds reached a commercial peak with the album, "Tuff Enuff." Three years later, Vaughan left the band, but Wilson kept the T-Birds on the road by overhauling their sound, incorporating keyboards alongside guitars.
As a side project, he formed Kim Wilson's Blues Revue, a solo project dedicated to traditional blues. After his success with the T-Birds, some might wonder why an artist of Wilson's stature would pursue a solo career, let alone work small clubs after graduating to arenas and festivals. But the veteran bluesman says he does so to stay in touch with the music.

"That's where the music lives," he says. "The local joints used to be the place where all the kids came up and the big people would play there. I love the atmosphere of it and people can really get into what you're doing there."

Wilson says he especially likes playing Midwest blue-collar joints where fans are enthusiastic about live music. Five years ago, he bought a home in his native Detroit. Now he and his wife and their two young boys split time between the Motor City and California.

"One of the reasons I left Austin was because it became so white collar," he says. "It seemed like when all the technology and dot-com businesses came in the whole 'rent a video and stay home at night' mentality showed up. But in the Midwest they want to come out and see live music and it makes all the difference."

Wilson says, fans are also starved for real blues.

"There's lots of little joints to play, but not lots of really real blues people left," he says.

It's a poignant observation given today's state of the blues in which some argue it has become a parody of its former self and a youth-oriented, disposable commodity of American popular culture - though Wilson calls the blues "The most American thing you can have." And though many in the blues industry distance themselves from the roots of the music by championing hybrid styles that make instant heroes out of inexperienced musicians barely old enough to vote, let alone lead a life worth singing about, Wilson remains dedicated to its traditions.

"This is the problem, you gotta get into all this mixture of rock and blues that is happening in a feeble way these days," Wilson says. "No one wants to go out and see a guy in a club who really can't play that well playing through a 300-watt Marshall blowing their face off. People have become disillusioned by the quality of the music, by the volume of the music, by the lack of humility that you see in some of these people because they think they can just pick up a guitar and walk out there and after three months be somebody. And you know what? Nothing is further from the truth."

Wilson says rewarding careless, unimaginative young musicians who have little regard for the music's history is hurting the blues and its legacy.

"When I was a kid people came out to see Big Joe Turner, Eddie Taylor and Big Mama Thornton and they had the records and were into the music," he says. "People were in awe of them. For me, it was amazing to meet them and have them as mentors, but they were also the most humble and greatest people I ever met. They had been through hell. They didn't just walk onto a fuckin' tour bus. And when Muddy Waters heard Robert Johnson and Son House, he didn't just go 'I can't do that. I'm going to reinvent something else and call it blues.' He revered it."

That's why Wilson is hell-bent on using his status in the blues community to preserve its traditions and mentor young players like Doug Deming and Rusty Zinn, both of whom he will play with Tuesday at Blues on Grand. The veteran bandleader has the same approach with the T-Birds. Last year, he recruited Nick Curran and Kirk Fletcher, two of the hottest tradition-steeped and innovative young guitarists in the blues.

"I try to help people out as much as I can," he says. "It's worth it to me because there's so few of them left in this music. And if you can find one who's young and loves it and knows what it's like to be a bandleader who's still into it, that's the kinda guy I want to be buddies with."

In the meantime, Wilson says he will continue to spread his gospel on the blues one record and one concert at a time. And judging by the passion you can hear in his music, it's evident he has a lot more to say.

"I've written my own page in this stuff, but it's definitely a work in progress," he says. "And whatever comes out of me is totally natural. I'm not going to take the music to a place that's misrepresenting it." CV

City Sounds 2: Fans still hail the King of the Blues

If it were anyone other than 80-year-old B.B. King there might have been an uprising Saturday night at the Civic Center of Greater Des Moines. That's because concertgoers these days expect high-energy performances with brilliant pyrotechnics, elaborate lighting, massive video screens and ridiculous amounts of loud, loud music in exchange for tickets that fetch as much as $67, yet the gray-haired King, who prefers to sit during his shows and share more banter than singing and guitar playing, offers none of that.

"The papers are gonna kill me tomorrow," King joked. "Ol' B.B. was pretty good, but he talked all night long."

True, it was difficult for "Lucille," King's famous Gibson guitar, to get a word in edgewise Saturday night. But when she spoke, sometimes in flourishes of signature vibrato notes - the ones that have influenced so many guitar players - she brought the sold-out crowd of more than 2,700 devoted fans to its feet.

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen, you're too kind," King told the audience. But you would have been hard-pressed to find anyone Saturday night unwilling to give the King his due, if not a break. After more than 50 years of entertaining millions of people with the utmost professionalism night after night, it was clear some of the applause Saturday night was reserved for King's longevity and not so much his playing.

But, oh, what a career it's been judging by some of the songs he touched upon. King's medley of hits on Saturday barely scratched the surface of his massive body of work, but included snippets of "How Blue Can You Get," "Nobody Loves Me But My Mother," "Ain't That Just Like A Woman," "Key to the Highway" and "Rock Me Baby." Only "The Thrill is Gone," his signature tune, but not an original, got the full-length treatment it deserved.

Though the set list offered few, if any, surprises for longtime fans, at least King's limited guitar work was more focused than that from his previous performance at the Civic Center a few years ago when he sometimes missed or dropped notes. It's hard to imagine King becoming more efficient than what he already is, but in the twilight of his career he proved he is still capable of saying so much by playing so little.

Too bad the show's opening act, hot shot Canadian blues-rocker Anthony Gomes, hasn't picked up any of King's restraint or authenticity after opening a string of shows for him. His over-the-top, clichŽ riddled set of "blues" that included a Led Zeppelin song and a smug stage presence to match painted a clear picture of what's wrong with a lot of young blues artists who prefer flash over substance and volume over humility. Then again, every king's court needs a jester. -Michael Swanger

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