I meant to write this last night, but didn’t for reasons explained below. Last night, Johnny Winter played at Stubb's in Austin. Stubb's is a barbecue joint/outdoor venue situated along Waller Creek in downtown Austin. The barbecue is decent, but it’s not one of Austin's main music venues. I mention this because Buddy Guy was playing at Antone's, Austin’s premier blues club, where Johnny has played in the past. It could be that South by Southwest (SXSW) dictates who plays where, but I have a feeling Johnny’s manager, Teddy Slatus, had something to do with this. (More on him later.)
I got there early to ensure a spot right up front. With everything going on, this wasn’t a problem—the space was largely empty until much later in the evening. In retrospect, I probably should have gone to Antone's and then elbowed my way to the front for Johnny, but you don’t take chances when it’s four years or more between appearances.
The opening acts were mostly local and mostly country. I’m not a country music fan, but a couple of the bands were pretty good. The first act, the Cornell Hurd Band, reminded me of Asleep at the Wheel—good bar band with a wry sense of humor. Dale Watson and his band were musically adept, with great interplay between Dale on the Telecaster and his steel player. Bonus: Jimmie Dale Gilmore made a guest appearance. The only downside was Jack Ingram, a drunk country singer with a rude, frat-boy appeal. His guitarist (Mike McSomething from Del Rio) was good, but otherwise, Ingram was a waste of time.
The Mighty Blue Kings were the second act and they were outstanding. Their ‘40s/‘50s jazz-swing style, complete with two saxes, piano, bass, drums, and a fantastic guitar player, made for a great set. They even did a jazzy rendition of "Manic Depression" without losing the intensity of the original. Highly recommend them.
By now, it had gotten chilly. It was 1:00 AM, we were outside near what’s basically a dry creek bed, and a breeze was blowing. The stagehands had the Music Man amps warmed up and Johnny’s spare Lazer guitar tuned and ready. No Firebird—this was a showcase gig, so we could expect about 40 minutes to an hour of Johnny.
It was time for Johnny to come on, and they fired up two propane space heaters aimed at his mic. After some “John-ny, John-ny” chants from the crowd, he finally appeared. He looked much older than when I last saw him, which was at Liberty Lunch in Austin about five years ago. He wore a black windbreaker and his trademark black hat pulled low over his eyes. He played the white Lazer with decals, using a combination of flange and distortion for his tone. The flange filled out the sound for his single-note rhythm parts, though it took some getting used to.
Johnny has clearly aged. I was about eight feet away from him for the entire show, and he almost never opened his eyes. His vision must be nearly gone. He walked on stage without obvious help but followed a careful path. He had trouble plugging in his guitar at the start and dropped the jack at the end, fumbling with it. After the show, he was led offstage by a flashlight. His movements on stage were minimal—just some careful rocking from side to side, possibly to stay close to the mic. Physically, he looked frail but not sick, more like someone who had battled health problems and recovered as far as his age and limitations allow. He’s not at death’s door, but he certainly isn’t the Johnny Winter of the past.
He opened with "Hideaway." Honestly, it’s not the best vehicle for his playing—good, methodical, but no flash. His chops warmed up through the song, but you could tell the crowd was feeling the sadness and disappointment that’s been expressed by others. However, the crowd gave him a warm response, which seemed to energize him.
By this point, I was freezing. The next song was "Boogie Real Low," and Johnny played it with more confidence, hitting some of his signature timing. The speed and fluidity of the past were missing, likely due to the cold, but the crowd was forgiving. The biggest surprise was his voice—it was barely audible. It improved as the gig progressed, but the growl is definitely gone. His voice now has that sweet, high tone you’d recognize from his early recordings with Edgar, though he no longer has the support to belt it out.
"Sick and Tired" came next, with Johnny making a crack about the title, perhaps alluding to his own past illness. He seemed to be enjoying himself, although he extended the songs without filling the space as he used to. The space heaters started malfunctioning during the next blues number, puffing out smoke, and making things worse. When they were turned off, the stage got even colder, and Johnny’s playing began to suffer more.
He kept looking at his wrist as if checking his watch, but I could see clearly—he wasn’t wearing one! I think it was a signal to the band about how much longer they had to go. He closed with "Johnny Guitar," rallying a bit, but it was clear he was cold and just trying to finish without missing more notes. His playing was more restrained, and the cold limited his performance. I was glad when he finished, both for his sake and because I was freezing too.
The crowd cheered wildly after every song. This is Austin, after all, and Johnny Winter will always be welcome here. People were even lined up on the bridge behind the stage. Junior Brown, one of Johnny’s admirers, was among those in attendance, respectfully catching the set.
After the show, I bought a poster and ball cap, hoping to get Johnny’s autograph. Bassist Mark Epstein came out, signed a few things, and hung out with some fans. A genuinely warm guy and a great bass player. When I asked about Johnny signing autographs, Mark explained there was a "protocol" and that we’d have to talk to Teddy Slatus.
Slatus, Johnny’s manager, is quite a character—probably in his mid-50s, short with curly gray hair, and constantly darting around like a ferret. When I politely asked if Johnny might sign a few things, he quickly dismissed me, saying they had a meeting with the record people and dashed off. A little while later, he ushered in a group of local music writers and artists for a private moment with Johnny. So much for the meeting with the record company.
My overall impression of Slatus? He seems to care about Johnny’s welfare, but he’s clearly in over his head. He’s managing Johnny’s career with little competence or experience. Johnny’s career deserves better.
That’s my report of the night. I apologize for any typos and for not coordinating better with those who wanted to meet up at the show. I hope this gives you a sense of what it was like. If Johnny comes to your town, I’d still recommend seeing him.
Mike McIntosh
