Keb' Mo'
A year and a half ago Keb’ Mo’ (Kevin Moore) brought his band to Fort Lauderdale’s Parker Playhouse for an evening of Americana, laughter and reflection. And he returned Friday, June 15, to the historical venue as a solo act with his own folk, rock and pop infused brand of blues.
With Bruce Springsteen crushing it as a solo act on Broadway, there is some magic going on when singer-songwriters like Springsteen, James Taylor and Jackson Browne take to the stage without their bands. Keb’ Mo’ doesn’t have as wide a fan base as those superstars but he definitely has the music and the chops to capture the souls of his fans for a two-hour solo flight.
Rotating through his electric, acoustic and resonator guitars, harmonica and banjo, Keb’ spun personal stories of his childhood, love won and lost, and defiance, underscoring them with Delta blues traditions – foot stomping and bending the steel strings elevating his soulful baritenor. The skillful guitarist would often throw in unexpected chic chords to flavor the standard 3-chord blues progressions.
Fresh from touring with Taj Mahal, the four-time Grammy Award-winning blues man took the stage sporting a black vest over a long white shirt, a gray fedora, a twinkling eye and hospitable smile. He commenced with some hard pick in’ storytelling, assuring Mr. Bartender that “I’ll give you all your money, soon as I get paid.”
Many of his tunes were love-centric. Whether it was “Loola loo” (“…my love just keeps on grow in’…whether she’s comin’ or she’s goin’”) or “Rita” (“…the girl I should a' never let go”) or “Angelina” (“…I tried to give you everything in the world but all you really wanted was my heart”), Keb’s toe-tapping melody and catchy choruses were easily accessible to his fans.
He inserted his affable commentary throughout the evening, even between his lyrics, once proclaiming that he was a “problem solving machine,” while singing that “…if nobody loves you… just remember you can love yourself.” He sang of his “Suitcase” – a metaphor for all the personal baggage he carried everywhere he went – and met a girl who had “a big ol’ suitcase too,” parenthetically suggesting that a marriage counselor might be someone to help “take their suitcases away.”
Unflappable about the daily problems we face, Keb’ declared “at this particular moment (while we’re all here) there are no problems.” He was funny, appreciative and self-effacing; it felt like we were sitting in his living room sharing an evening of impromptu conversation and song.
One fan requested “I Was Wrong” and Keb’ was reluctant to sing it as he hadn’t played it for a while. Undaunted, he pulled up the lyrics from the Internet, stopping and starting while reading them to get the chorus right, which he nailed. He quipped he was going to enter this moment into his diary.
Keb’ shared stories from his childhood, pointing out that he learned how to play guitar from his uncle Herman, the son of a sharecropper.
The seasoned blues man has a happy talent for spinning simple lyrics into sublime melody. Witness the refrain from “Henry”:
“And I can hear the bells are callin’
From the light of a distant star
I can see my future
And I can feel my past
When Henry plays his steel guitar”
His honesty and positive vibe was palpable on the upbeat “More Than One Way Home” recounting his early days in his hometown, where Summertime in Compton “was not like TV.”
Claiming that he wrote a protest song “about nothing,” the driving “Stand Up (and Be Strong)” was hardly that.
“Get up, everybody, get off your ass
We got to do something and we got to do it fast
'Cause the people are hungry, starving, and a few things more
Don't wait for Jesus, he ain't coming back no more”
On the flip side, “Hand It Over” was his remedy for problems and worries, preaching “…give it up, give it over…get on your knees and pray.”
At one point he mentioned that he was working on becoming a “blues DJ” as “you got to have a backup plan.”
Telling the boss man “where to go and just what to do” (“Dangerous Mood”), claiming “you made me a brand new man but I like the old me better” (“Old Me Better”) and saying “go ahead be wild and free, you don't have to shave yo' legs for me” (“Shave Yo' Legs”), Keb’ didn’t mince words and got right down to the unmasked center of everything.
He reentered the stage with his banjo after the crowd brought him back for an encore, launching into “The Worst Is Yet to Come” (“…even the bedbugs up and run…”) and, once again producing that Delta twang on the steel string with the Metal slide on his ring finger, got the crowd moving with “She Just Wants to Dance” (“She ain't looking for a romance, she just wants to dance…”).
What endears Keb’ Mo’ to his audience is the universal honesty he brings to his songs, the kind of truths we all are experiencing or have experienced at some point in our lives. His last tune of the evening, “I’ll Be Your Water,” landed in our collective hearts.
“And if you ever need someone to talk to
And if you ever need a helping hand
I'll be your ship out on the ocean
I'll be your water in the desert sand”
Would we all have a friend like Keb’ Mo’.
