Tonight, the Théâtre de la Mer is packed to the brim—Johnny Winter is playing. But first, there's the obstacle of Wishbone Ash...
Wishbone Ash is "old progressive rock," a clash across time. As a result, the music feels bland, empty, and uninteresting. Yet, the crowd keeps asking for more. Damn. We pass the time as best we can, and then the moment arrives.
The roadies get busy preparing the stage:
- A red chair for Johnny Winter, with two Fender amps on the left,
- A beautiful Pearl drum kit in the back,
- Two large SW amps for the bassist on the right,
- Finally, a small Fender(?) for the harmonica player in the middle.
The crowd shouts his name, and Johnny Winter arrives on stage... carried by three roadies .
Everyone is left speechless, stunned, and bewildered. What has become of our bluesman? Is this Pope John Paul II arriving on stage, or a completely decayed Johnny Winter? His right leg keeps trembling (Parkinson’s?), and he’s hunched over, bent in half. He wears a beard and his usual big hat, covering half of his face (though we can still guess his dazed expression).
He starts into the first song (I can’t recall the playlist, but it’s very close to NYC97: Sen-Sha-Sun , Mojo , Johnny Guitar , a nod to Fast Life Rider , Black Cat , She’s Like the Boogie , etc.).
The sound is good, but physically, our friend can no longer keep the pace or avoid missing certain cues (he sings every other song, with the harmonica player or drummer taking over to let him catch his breath).
But in the end, it doesn’t matter because this is truly an authentic hero , struggling to play his music. I wanted the blues, and I got it. Johnny Winter could have died on stage tonight, and I wouldn’t have been surprised.
My only regret was the circus act with the obligatory slide guitar number.
Pablo Pernot
