A Contrasting Audience

We went to see BB King in concert last Friday and, aside from being impressed by the eighty-two year-old's still amazing gift for the guitar, were left somewhat confused by one aspect of the concert at Ruth Eckerd Hall that I didn't notice until Mia mentioned it after we had already removed our earplugs and gone home for the evening: there were, at most, ten black people in the audience. Even more interesting is how the great bluesman spoke of his life in the days of segregation by pointing to himself, saying "we lived on one side of the tracks" and then pointing out to the audience, "and you all lived on the other". (Times, today, are pleasantly different and he was very grateful for the changes he had seen over the decades that led to a more balanced society.) But Mia noted that she thinks the Blues, in current days, is much more likely to have an audience composed of pale middle-aged guys working desk jobs rather than the original intended listeners from when the genre came to be. It appears that she is at least somewhat right and that BB King recognizes this -- he made several references to the audience as, well, not being as "melanin enriched" as himself. For African Americans no longer being in tune to the Blues, I can see them distancing themselves from these historical assosciations or that, simply, the music doesn't appeal to the current generation. But I also have to wonder what caused the other shift, because I'm not certain there are any ways that any given thirty-something, middle class white living in the US could ever relate and be able to appreciate the Blues for why they were written and from what social environment/context they were born.

It has to be a strange experience being BB King and thinking across the memories of years gone by and who listens to his music, who shows up to his appearances, and why. Of course, someone already has a nice set of answers for my questions regarding these puzzling phenomena and even examines the difficulties of being a white blues musician.

As for me? I just love the wail of Lucille. That may be all that really matters, anyway, or at least seemed to when I got to see the great bluesman do what he does best.