Santa Barbara is a wealthy, largely white enclave a hop and a skip up the Pacific coast from Los Angeles. Fifteen years ago, I saw Bobby Bland play in a small bar there before a handful of muted, middle-class barflies and blues fans. The second time I saw him was in front of an audience already roused by the sly wit and funky guitar of Clarence Carter at the L.A. Auditorium. This former indoor sports stadium was packed to the rafters with an almost entirely black, middle aged audience who went crazy when Bobby took the stage and carried on that way all night. Punctuating his performance with his trade-mark squall, or love-throat as he calls it, Bobby was truly in his element.
I last caught Bobby in 2007 opening for Van Morrison at the refurbished United Palace Theatre in New York. It was an appearance that blended elements of both previous shows. The crowds were large but over-whelmingly white and it was Bobby who warmed up the audience for the icey Irishman.
On this occasion, I was scheduled to interview Van for a film I was making about Bobby for BBC4. The evening began farcically as my camerman and I were rebuffed from the stage door like a couple of desperate autograph hunters. Word had not reached Bobby about our imminent arrival and he was busy on his bus, tucking into dinner, oblivious to our dilemma. Van‘s people were skittish and felt without Bobby‘s approval we were not welcome. We returned to the luxury of our motel room in Fort Lee on the unfashionable side of the George Washington bridge. I gazed out at the toll-booth directly outside of our window and wondered what the view was like from Van‘s suite in the Essex House Hotel, high above Central Park. I had some idea, but was he happy?
Armed with nothing but Van‘s manager‘s cell phone number, we returned to the theatre the next night to find out. This proved enough to gain entry though when we finally breached the barricades, we were told to set up in a corridor beneath the stage and wait. Apparently, Van had spent a terrible, sleepless night and was not in a good humour. He wasn‘t in a good humour? He should try hanging round the back streets of Spanish Harlem followed by a night in the Fort Lee Comfort Inn. All this remained unspoken and was quickly forgotten when Van appeared, hastily took his seat and offered himself up for interrogation. Yes, he loved Bobby – yes, he was heavily influenced by him – yes, he enjoyed sharing the stage with him and – yes, we could go sit in the theatre and watch the show. That was it.
There were many other challenging encounters in my pursuit of the Bobby Bland story, and I am pleased to say the results have just been released on DVD. You can click here to purchase or visit Amazon for more options.
Bobby, like Solomon Burke and Ray Charles, cites country music as a huge influence. His own influence on Elvis Presley and by definition, the history of rock and roll is on record. As he approaches his 82nd birthday, I am happy to have a contributed in some small way to preserving the legacy of a true Maverick.
