Ambassador of Cool, Ron Thompson, Honeybee
& The $13 Stella

In this particular case, Chick is the Outlook's Guitar Hero.  You'll understand why in a minute (providing you keep reading). 

Tomorrow night, Dan Treanor is hitting the stage with headliner Richard Ray Ferrell, and I urge you to join us, as these two together promises to be a great show.  Here's a little something from Ferrell's MySpace page:  "Richard Ray started as a street musician or busker in Paris, France in 1975. Totally fascinated with the music of Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and other legendary blues players, Richard played for hours on end in the halls and tunnels of the Parisian Metro subway, scraping out a living as a musician, literally a "po' boy long way from home. Little by little, Richard worked his way up from the subways and streets of cities throughout the continent, eventually forming his own band and going on to perform on some of the largest and most prestigious stages in Europe, together with some of the true giants of traditional American blues music."  Yeah, I know.  I'll see you there.

Toward the end of the month, we have the return of Chicago's own, Delores Scott.  We LOVE this woman, and even the wait staff has begun excitedly talking about her return.  If Steady Rollin' is the Prodigal Son of the Outlook, the Delores Scott is the Prodigal Daughter.  Congratulations, Outlook, it's a girl!

The fourth episode of Broads on Blues aired live this past Sunday, and will be on our MySpace page this week.  I'll let you know when, and it's a really good one.  We had fun.

I would love to go on (and on and on and on), but I'm really tired because Jill, Vanessa, and I journeyed to The Little Bear last night to catch Tommy Castro.  Fiancé alert!  I know; things are getting a little out of hand, however, Jill is currently working on a "Honey Bee Sepeda Fiancé Flow Chart" to simplify things for our readers.  We'll have it on line soon.  In the meantime, here's what Chick has to say about last week.  He has a lot to say. 

A couple legends played the Outlook last weekend. Friday night Ron Thompson put on a spellbinding one man show, introducing folks to his mastery of the resonator guitar (school-time note: here's a little education for everyone, including me on what a resonator guitar is: its an acoustic guitar whose sound is produced by metal cones instead of the standard wooden guitar top or face, sort of looks like the face has a pie plate attached to it. It helps give a guitar some natural amplification. If you've heard of a 'dobro' it's simply the Gibson brand of a resonator.). Ok, back to wherever I was and that was, well, that I was unable to make Ron's show. From what I hear, he was outstanding. No, I take that back; Ron must have gone well beyond 'outstanding' because afterwards I kept hearing comments like "I never heard anyone play like that;" "OMG he was amazing;" "the entire bar was awestruck;" "dumbstruck in total silence at his performance". On and on they went, and I think just about everyone I ran into Saturday night had to make a point of telling me just how damn good Ron was Friday night and reminding me I had missed the show of a lifetime. ARRRRRGHGHGHGHGGHHGH! Twist that knife a little deeper and add a little more salt to my wounds why don't cha!!!!! OK, the bottom line consensus was that Ron's picking and singing totally enraptured the crowd. It's not often when one man commands that kind of attention with 'just' an acoustic guitar and his voice, and it's especially difficult to pull that off with a bar crowd. Luckily, Dan is giving us poor wretches who missed Ron a reprieve. Dan & Honey are working to get him back here with plans of getting Ron to make the Outlook a regular stop on his schedule. I'm sure Honey will get out a blast-o-gram once they have a new date.

Now I need to thank Bryan Lee and his Blues Power Band for taking the sting out of what I missed Friday night and replacing it with the good feeling for what I DIDN'T miss Saturday night. His latest album, "Katrina Was Her Name," was nominated by the Blues Foundation as the Best Contemporary Blues Album of the Year, and I can understand why. The Braille Blues Daddy and his band might come out of New Orleans, but they skipped any Mardi Gras tunes, and instead took us on a runaway, hell-bound train to the nastiest blues I could ever imagine.  This is potent, undiluted, 100-Proof Chicago blues that Mr. Lee & the boys have honed to a razor's edge.

First I have to tell you that I was a little skeptical when Bryan arrived. He looked a little like a frail Burl Ives (remember the Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer cartoon?), pushed to the stage in a wheelchair, with an oxygen tank and white cane attached. Damn, I was afraid I was catching a legend whose time might have passed. Two hours later Bryan Lee was still on stage and going strong and it was the audience who needed oxygen trying to keep up with him. Bryan Lee doesn't just play the guitar. He makes it scream, and strut, then he twists it and wrings it out until nothing but the purest blues drip from it. Starting with his sweet opening number of "Sugaree," this Wisconsin born bluesman blended in his New Orleans-tinged vocals with the smooth soulful sound of his deep blue Gibson. At any moment he would infuse the mixture with a sudden assortment of piercing guitar squeals and giggles. He played his own songs and he delved into some classics: bending and pushing his strings through "CrossCut Saw" and tearing the place up with "The Sky is Crying".  "Louisiana Woman" was a steamy and swampy tune, down and nasty, and it got the folks up and dancing. Whatever songs he played, they all had an infectious, guitar driven energy that he delivered with accompanying playful expressions and commentary.  He teased a little with the opening from "Smoke on the Water" and got the crowd laughing, but that was as close as he ever got to rock or even blues-rock; this show was all about the BLUES. Bryan Lee was a master giving a clinic showing everything a guitar could do, offering us about every sound a guitar can make. He would switch from the rawest string grinding, to long and moaning chords that rippled through the air. He could play low and slow (though not often), then shift into something powerful and blistering. And whenever he wanted to quiet the crowd he 'squeezed his baby' and that guitar stretched out incredibly long held notes that seemed to hang over the room for an eternity and kept the crowd in awe.

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Bryan Lee

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