By Max Kyburz
The spirit of early 20th century blues was alive and well at Black-Eyed Sallys in Hartford on Thursday night. Chicano blues junkie Brownbird Rudy Relic, along with traveling companion Orb Mellon, gave a set that undoubtedly turned Sally’s eyes from black to bleeding.
For the record, the guest of honor decries any form of domestic violence.
The night began with a set from longtime compatriot Orb Mellon, a similarly well-dressed bandit from New York. His jacket neatly nestled around his chair, Orb rocked out via guitar and harmonica. His odd vocal stylings are a unique match for his foot stomping acoustic ditties, amplified by rear in gear harmonica shredding. It was a worthy set that put the audience in the mood for what was to come.
For those who don’t know, Brownbird describes himself as a “New York City Holler Blues Dynamo.” Armed only with a resonator guitar and kazoo, Brownbird swears off electricity (even music can be “green”) and delivers a raw, energetic set of booming blues emulated from legends like Leadbelly and Robert Johnson. While he derives from these old masters of steel guitar, many of his songs derive from 80s punk rock; he often switches from traditional ballads to fast paced jams that outdo bands like Rancid and The Casualties.
Though he sits for much of his set, Brownbird’s hardly still; his feet constantly flailing, he often explodes into punk rock guitar leaps and Angus Young-influenced conniption fits. He’s even mastered the “chairwalk,” a move which involves him playing while standing on his chair and shifting it forward. For his finale, he lept from the stage, over a friend, and onto the floor Evel Kenievel-style. If that’s not rock ‘n’ roll, then I’m a responsible student.
The crowd was a mix of friends, fans, and innocent bystanders unknowingly becoming witness to the biggest blues explosion since John Spencer. Oh, and there was one annoying guy dancing unabashedly. As one of my compadres fittingly said, “I remember my first beer.”
Nevertheless, the performance won the crowd over. Brownbird’s set consisted strictly of old favorites, most of them from his album Anti-Stereo Acoustic Holler Blues (recorded entirely with 1950s equipment). His one cover song, dedicated to the bar’s kitchen staff, was a traditional tune titled “El Rey.” I personally would have liked to hear some newer material, but I can’t complain.
Rather than exist as a carbon-copy, Brownbird adds his own flavor to the mix. Aside from the mariachi cover, Brownbird made many references to his love of Mariah Carey. Quite a ballsy move on his part, considering I know very few men who would admit to such. The influence is apparent; some of his stylings are laced with vocal runs. Plus he can hardly resist covering 90s R&B a cappella. Don’t ask me how he makes it work, he just does.
Having seen Brownbird twice now, I was once again impressed by his unwavering charisma and organic energy (look him up on YouTube). He played a 45 minute set, which, given all of his acrobatics, was probably a good thing. As he stated during midset, a longer set would have probably killed him. Tell ’em, Brown.
