B.B. King a top class warm-up for Marshall Tucker Band at SPAC
by Kyle Hughes, Bennington Banner, June 18, 1980
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the gentleman of the blues, Mr. B.B. King,” the bandleader said in a smooth yell. He spit out the words “Mr. B.B. King” with showbiz gusto.
The distinguished-looking black man wheeled around and gestured magnanimously towards the wings, where Mr. B.B. King, easily filling out a dark blue three-piece suit, was bounding out on stage. The audience of teenagers whooped it up like drugstore cowboys, but probably not as loud as they would do a short time later for the Marshall Tucker Band. “Tucker” does its best to encourage whooping.
Probably a minority of the 10,000 or so paying customers who journeyed to the Saratoga Performing Arts Center Saturday night came specifically to hear the gentlemanly guitarist and singer B.B. King, who opened for Marshall Tucker both nights of the two-night SPAC engagement.
Most were fans of Marshall Tucker, a group that has come from the not-too-deep south of South Carolina to conquer the pop charts.
In the process, “Tucker” has caused non-Southerners all over the country — people who wouldn’t be caught dead putting peanuts in their Pepsis — to shout “Whoopee!!” at the top of their lungs and wear cowboy hats while driving their parents’ car around.
But, whether you like them or not, you’ve got to hand it to Marshall Tucker — they’ve got taste in their selection of opening acts. King, a former disc jockey turned blues singer, acknowledged that gesture. He paused near the end of his dynamic set to thank both SPAC and “the Marshall Tucker” for allowing him to be on stage.
King is one of the giants of the modern blues, from his early landmark recordings to his newer soul-inflected, slicker blues. His “clean” style of guitar playing has had wide influence, although popular taste in music has moved away from the mannered professionalism he embodies.
Public taste is beside the point with King, however, since he does what he does so well. He can be appreciated for that.
Saturday, he and his band ran through about a dozen numbers, eliminating some slower tunes to do battle for the wandering attention of a young crowd unfamiliar with his music and high-spirited in anticipation of Marshall Tucker’s appearance.
The crowd was still appreciative of King, offering the Mississippi native a standing ovation at both ends of his abbreviated set, though the last ovation merited no encore.
King and his large band — horn section, piano, guitars, bass, and drums — performed smoothly and his set was businesslike, probably aimed, understandably, at simply “warming up” the crowd. Of course, B.B. King and his band did much more.
Missing, however, was a wonderful (and quiet, hence its exclusion Saturday) musical monologue I recently saw King perform before a reverent crowd in London — a recitation of how he got his start in the music business and his approach to the blues.
But that is a minor complaint. B.B. King was a delight Saturday night and hopefully converted some of the legions of Marshall Tucker fans who had probably never heard of him before.
By all accounts, Marshall Tucker afterwards turned in a crowd-pleasing performance. The last Southern rock band I had any affection for was the Allman Brothers, and that was when I was in high school, so I left SPAC Saturday to go slice a basket of balls at the driving range before it got too dark.
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