Dan Buffa is an administrator and critic for Film-Addict.comas well as contributing sports/entertainment stories to KSDK and his own personal blog, Dose of Buffa.
LAS VEGAS - B.B. King died on May 14, 2015, in Las Vegas. He was 89-years-young, but he will live on.
The lonely crowd will be us, his fans who wrapped our ears around his world whenever we felt the force of life beating us down to our knees. King redefined the blues and departs this world as the king. Buddy Guy and Muddy Waters may hold a few of the keys to the castle, but it's King's face on the front of the building.
Maybe it was the way he played the guitar, sitting in a chair at the center of the stage well into his 80's. King played it so well, and so honestly, that one would think he was born with a guitar strumming around the crib. Maybe it was the way he sang the blues and made us feel the impact in our souls that he seemed to be feeling deep in his bones.
I remember seeing King play live in the late 1990's at the Fox Theater with my friend Josh Brown. He got two tickets to a Blues festival, and all the greats came out to play. Guy, Susan Tedeschi, and B.B. King. The ones that took the stage before him were honorable and dynamic, but what they did paled in comparison to the show King put on. He only played for 45 minutes, but he sunk his soul into those songs.
King was a musician who truly connected with his audience. He didn't need a seven piece orchestra, a skin tight outfit, a trio of singers to help him out either. King could blow you away all by himself. He was old school, a relic from the past that wouldn't die. One that kept getting stronger.
It's all there in the tune everybody knows him by.
"You know I'm free, free now baby
I'm free from your spell
Oh I'm free, free, free now
I'm free from your spell
And now that it's all over
All I can do is wish you well"
That's King telling us that he feels no pain and although he is gone, he will still be in our heads when the song comes on. It's a tune that I can listen to when I'm mad, happy, upset, hurt, beat up or sad. I listen to it when I run or when I am sitting with a cup of coffee. It'll be as powerful when my son, Vincent, hears it for the first time as it was when I heard it as a kid, dying for more.
A common thing to do these days is ask someone who their favorite band is, or present two bands and ask you which one is better. They don't get it. You can't make someone choose between two different bands or try to make a voice seem as pure to someone else as it is to you. Music is personal. It owns a piece of your soul and is part of your life. When I hear a song, it takes me back to that first time it traveled through me or when I really needed it. Someone else can't hear that and easily connect. Music are like movies, an art form that's painfully personal and direct.
Photos: B.B. King Museum
B.B. King never let the weight of his work overwhelm his basic goal. To keep playing the blues. Somewhere up there, if they have a sturdy stool, a good black suit, and white shirt with a bow-tie to go with a wise yet game guitar, King will keep playing. I don't believe in a life after death, but there are exceptions.
I think my grandmother Meme is up there watching 60 minutes, sipping dry red wine and talking people's ears off. I think my late friend Troy is watching the Cardinals. I also think B.B. King is still playing the guitar.
The thrill may be gone from our world, but it's resting easy in another place right now. It's not gone far away at all. King's true power and legacy are in the songs he left us. Lean back. Get comfortable. Close your eyes, give them a listen, and get lost in the Blues.
Take it from the man himself:
"Everybody wants to know
Why I sing the blues
Yes, I say everybody wanna know
Why I sing the blues
Well, I've been around a long time
I really have paid my dues"
You surely have, sir. Now rest in peace.
