I wish I had found this website before seeing Johnny rather than after. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I would have preferred to be prepared for what I was about to experience. I’ve seen him six or seven times since my first concert on April 1, 1975, at the Music Hall in Boston (I still have one unused ticket). The last time I saw him was in the early 80s. Recently, I bought "Live in NYC 1997" and assumed he was still in top form. However, the reviews on this site tell a different story. I’m not sure how they pulled it off, but the album is now a treasured addition to my collection.
Harper's Ferry is a small club with a decent high stage and good acoustics. I bought my ticket the day before the show, and by then, they had sold about 350 tickets. I figure there must have been a crowd of around 500 people. When I arrived, Johnny was already playing, and I could immediately tell that he wasn’t in form. I play in a band myself, and these are the opinions of someone who walked in sober and had only one beer throughout the entire show.
The bass player (Epstein) and the drummer formed a tight rhythm section. Johnny, for the first few songs, was slightly behind the groove, and at times they slowed down a little to accommodate him. They pretty much did what everyone else has reported, except for "Goin' Down," which the bass player sang. It seemed like they hadn’t planned to play it. Johnny would just start playing, and the band would follow. At one point during a song, he missed a chord change and stayed on that chord for a while. The bass player and drummer exchanged glances but shrugged it off. Eventually, Johnny seemed to figure it out, and when he moved forward, the band was ready to follow.
Johnny only sang parts of the songs, leaving out many of the verses but never forgetting any of the chorus parts. He struggled with the leads, though I did see occasional flashes of the old Johnny Winter. When he played slide guitar on his old Firebird, the entire song was flawless—a true Johnny Winter gem. At one point, much to the surprise of both the band and the audience, he transitioned from one song straight into the middle of another. Years ago, whenever he did that, it seemed like the band always knew it was coming.
Johnny looked frail, to say the least. He stood close to the mic and swayed, whether he was playing or not. He seemed confused, and at one point, he wandered off stage after a song, only to be turned around and sent back. He spoke a few times, delivering a few "Yeahs" and "Well all rights," and he told the audience how much he loved them. The crowd reacted enthusiastically, cheering and yelling, mostly out of respect and admiration. I would not have wanted to see what might have happened if someone had heckled him.
If you decide to see Johnny, just be prepared. Either his management are scumbags trying to squeeze every last drop out of him, or he simply needs the money. But if I were him, I’d bow out gracefully. If he returns, I’ll be there—not expecting to be blown away by his musicianship, but just to visit an old friend who’s left me with a treasure trove of memories. At least we can still listen to what he used to sound like.
AGARN
