Fame is a mutha. Line up Eric Clapton, John Fogerty and Tony Joe White in a dark room and listen to them. One is a worldwide legend, the other, a respected careerist, and the third a near-obscurity. But in terms of talent and creative longevity, you'd have a hard time choosing one over the other.
That may be the world's loss, but for the 100-odd souls gathered in Hollywood's intimate, funky Hotel Café to see Tony Joe White, it's a net bonus. White—best known through hit cover versions of his songs "Polk Salad Annie" (Elvis Presley) and "Rainy Night In Georgia" (Ray Charles)—may not be a household name, But he has always been respected by his peers, which is why many of them, including Mark Knopfler, Clapton, J.J. Cale, the late Waylon Jennings and Michael McDonald, lined up to help out on his new CD Uncovered.
White's records, even Uncovered (a collection of new, and re-recorded, numbers), are usually full-band affairs, peppered by strings and/or horns. For this lean tour, though, it's just Tony Joe and able drummer Jeff Hale (ex-Jennings' band). But the instruments aren't missed. White is still such a versatile, funky guitarist that, seated on a low stage with his amplifier facing him, and a harmonica in a bracket, he easily makes a full sound. In fact, White could easily give young minimalists like the White Stripes or Black Keys a run for their money.
"We're gonna take you deeper into the swamps, says the western Louisiana countrified bluesman near the beginning of his set, between his chestnuts "Saturday Night In Oak Grove, LA" and "Roosevelt & Ira Lee."
Nearly 40 years into his career, White—dressed in black from his boots to his fedora—shows virtually no signs of wear: his playing is strong, his molasses-sweet, musky voice is solid (more so, actually, than even on the new record—the tour must agree with him), his attitude positive, and his songs still valid. Nothing about it is a bit slick or nostalgiac.
He mixes old favorites like "They Caught The Devil and Put Him In Jail in Eudora, Arkansas," "Did Somebody Make A Fool Out Of You" and "Even Trolls Love Rock N Roll" with the more recent "Lake Placid Blues" and new tunes "Keeper Of The Fire" and "Not One Bad Thought." After a jazzy revisiting of his "Rainy Night In Georgia," he quips "now, let's get back to the requests."
LA is not known for its enthusiastic club audiences, but the small crowd here, surprisingly ranging in age from 50s down to 20s, hang on every word, know every song, and are fully committed, aware of what a special experience this is.
After an hour and ten minutes, White wraps it up with his signature "Polk Salad Annie," followed by a Hendrixy jam-coda, and a quick "thank you" before getting up and walking into the back. A hearty round of applause naturally brings him out again, to take off his shades for the first time in the night and say "You're a beautiful crowd, you make all the miles worthwhile." He plays "Ice Cream Man," then introduces daughter Michelle White to duet with him, dance around, and tell us her dad is "the coolest motherfucker on the planet." Wonder if she writes that on her Fathers' Day cards?
This show comes near the end of White's month-long cross-country (mostly Southern/blue state) trek, so recommending you see him in your town may be pointless. But with any luck, he'll be around again. And again.
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