Setlist:
- 1. Hideaway
- 2. Sen-Sa-Shun/Got My Mojo Working
- 3. She Likes to Boogie Real Low
- 4. Sick and Tired
- 5. Black Jack Game
- 6. The Sun is Shining
- 7. Goin’ Down (sung by Epstein)
- 8. Johnny Guitar
- Encore:
9. Drop the Bomb
The Showbox was packed with a standing-room-only crowd, and a large dance floor surrounded by extended areas for standing. There were only a few tables and chairs near the bar, but regardless of where you were, you had a great view of the stage, even with people standing in front of you.
Since I wanted to take pictures, I got close to the stage. I was eager to watch Johnny Winter from beginning to end. He entered the stage with the rest of the band, Mark and Vito, and took his usual spot with his familiar fan turned on in front of him.
Johnny wore his trademark straw hat, a black t-shirt with cut-off sleeves, and what appeared to be a small white line drawing of the Blues Brothers on the front. He wore jeans and neat suede boots, giving him a distinctly un-cowboy-like appearance.
His movements and demeanor were as described in past reviews—no better, no worse. But Johnny, true to form, came out with a smile. To me, he seemed like an exhausted, frail man who has been on the road for far too long, practically his entire life. His guitar playing often felt automatic, and he found comfort shifting from one foot to the other in a subtle manner. But it was clear—this man is a true blues artist with a gigantic blues spirit. Johnny continues to live on the road, playing for us, his devoted fans, the only way he knows how.
As the night progressed, I came to terms with seeing Johnny after all these years. It was an emotional rollercoaster. Yes, I cried, but I also laughed, smiled, danced, and wiggled to every note. Johnny's performance, especially toward the end of Black Jack Game, reminded me of why he's still a master. Even when his solos feel repetitive, he always finds a way out, making it seem intentional, as if he planned it that way all along.
At some point, I had to accept that Johnny, as he is now, still commands the stage in his own unique way. His changes over the years were something I intellectually understood but hadn’t fully grasped emotionally until seeing him in person.
Mark, Johnny’s bassist, was a standout. His enthusiasm was infectious as he attacked the bass, smiling and moving close to Johnny, who often seemed unaware of his presence. Yet Mark kept playing joyfully, seemingly unfazed by Johnny's aloofness.
Details from the night kept catching my attention—the small gestures and expressions that have been part of Johnny's stage persona for so long. The fan blowing his hair back, his fingers effortlessly flying over the fretboard, his eyes closed in concentration—it was all so mesmerizing.
The Seattle crowd was especially respectful. No one shouted requests or demands for rock and roll; it was as if everyone collectively understood that those days were behind him.
The Showbox’s acoustics were excellent. At times, the sound quality was so good that the show felt like it could have been professionally recorded for a CD.
Then came the moment when Johnny strapped on the old Firebird, his signature guitar that looks like an extension of him. While Vito played a drum solo, Johnny took his time adjusting the Firebird. A man nearby noticed me taking notes and leaned over to say, “You can write that he is fucking incredible.” As if I didn’t already know.
The crowd went wild when Johnny started playing slide on The Sun is Shining. His slide guitar work was both joyous and heartbreaking—pure mastery. He looked so relaxed, almost as if he could fall asleep while playing, but his connection to the music was undeniable.
The show continued with Mark taking the lead on Goin’ Down, with Johnny playing guitar alongside him. They closed with Johnny Guitar, a song filled with energy and emotion, despite Johnny’s emotionless appearance.
As the night drew to a close, Johnny, Mark, and Vito left the stage, only to return for an encore with Drop the Bomb. Johnny threw himself into this final number, playing with more intensity than at any other point in the night.
After the encore, Johnny introduced each band member, gave a heartfelt “God bless you, good night,” and exited the stage. It was clear that the show was over.
In the days following the concert, I found song lyrics and Johnny’s guitar riffs playing on a loop in my head. It’s a testament to the power of his performance and the lasting impression it left on my mind.
Johnny had done it again—giving us another unforgettable night of music, emotion, and blues. I left the Showbox feeling fortunate to have experienced it all, grateful to be part of a crowd that, for one night, let go of all worries and rocked out with Johnny Winter once again.
Jan
