I don't know how many members of this forum have seen 19th Street Red in action, but if you get the chance, he's worth checking out. I've seen him in action each of the past three years at the Bentonia Blues Fest, where he shows up and plays the Blue Front Lounge; he also tends to show up at the Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale, where I hope to cross paths with him this weekend.
There aren't many white guys who can actually pull off a name like 19th Street Red, but Red--aka Randy Cohen--is in that select few. He's passed way beyond the line where wannabe white bluesmen become bluesmen. There's no jive in what he does--or rather, the element of jive, such as it is, is much closer to the black source than white guys tend to get. He just is who he is, without apology. He has a seriously deep groove that makes people want to dance; he does a Howlin' Wolf voice in a way that makes it into his own thing rather than, for example, an embarrassment. It was clear the very first time I saw him at work that Jimmy "Duck" Holmes respected him all the way and wanted him in his black juke on holiday weekend, rocking the joint.
You can find his blog on line, and it confirmed my sense that he's living the wandering minstrel life for real.
Anyway, he's really got something offer. I'm not a huge fan of old-fashioned blues--one guy with a guitar and a beat--but every now and then I come across somebody who's really got it and I'm reminded of why I love the music.
Red isn't nearly as well known as he should be. He's definitely under the radar, by the standards of the organized blues world. But he's the real deal. He's one of the realest street blues players around. I respect him hugely. You don't get where he is without a hell of a lot of gig-hours, road-hours, street-hours, and various sorts of troubles under your belt. It's not about the guitar. It's not about the chord patterns! It's about creating something fresh and timeless, in the moment and right down on the street. The guitar is just a way of expressing all the life that's come before the street-moment. That's where the magic is. When you get to the point where he is, a point where the "mistakes" aren't mistakes but an integral part of the musical flow, all the dues have been paid in full:
