B.B. King, Live In Africa ’74 DVD

By Adam McIntyre

If pressed about my blues preferences, influences, or interests, I’ll stammer for a moment, name some greats, and whatever single, obscure guitarist I can vaguely pluck from my past to show that maybe we have common interests, and that I’ve educated myself a little deeper than your average blues wanker.

It’s much simpler, actually, than naming a few names once I think about it; I’m mostly a blues racist and an elitist. Oops, yeah, did I just call myself a blues racist? That’s weird, definitely, but here’s the deal: I stopped playing blues because I became increasingly self-conscious about coming across as some angsty white kid in a tie, absentmindedly regurgitating legitimately black licks.

I wasn’t directly descended from slaves; there are many aspects of growing up in this country as an African American that I will never understand firsthand because of white privilege. There are a couple handfuls of white artists who “get” the blues on a spiritual level, with a certain percentage of those actually making blues on a level that’s equal to the amount that they “get” it as a listener. I return to blues sometimes, like an old lover wanting to reminisce, and when I come back, I want it hard and dirty. I don’t want big lights and a brass backing band. I don’t want “classy,” I want visceral fire. I want Howlin’ Wolf in some sweaty no-name bar, pounding out the hypnotic, Satanic hybrid daughter of the blues of the Delta and Hill Country with only a couple of musicians banging on their instruments hard enough to break the stage in half.

B.B. King grew up in a chaotic, gritty environment, and his way of entertaining is to give his fans a moment of peace; to give them a classy, big-time spectacle that will warm their very souls. I’ve always thought warmly of B.B., even if he fishes from the other side of the pond, musically. He does it well, and he’s got a point. It’s entertainment, after all, and he entertains. He’s such an institution that the casual listener could simply think of him as the Sinatra of Blues Singers. I’ve always wanted to see a deeper, more personal side to B.B. King on stage, and when heard that this Live In Africa ’74 DVD was out, I wondered if this might be a vibey, transports-you-to-Africa, emotionally-charged sort of performance. I wanted some soul bearing, and for the audience to have some palpable relationship with the singer.

The concert was taped within a day or two of the “Rumble in the Jungle,” the epic battle between boxers George Foreman and Muhammad Ali, and was part of the same festivities. I mention this because there’s a brief shot of Ali in the stands watching the show with the 80,000 other people in attendance. B.B. King, however, is entirely cool and delivers a spot-on, polished, and somewhat brief performance at 45 minutes. The vibe I sought was quite present—you can see sweat pouring down B.B.’s face, we closely see each member of the band, everything is beautifully earth-toned. Sure, the audio source seems to change for a chunk of the show (the change is neither good nor bad), but it remains clear and punchy throughout, and the visual is so clear and deep that you feel like you’re there. I was fascinated by the surprisingly in-the-present experience this DVD gives you.

The set seems surprisingly short at eight songs, and the credits anticlimactically roll over some very self-conscious backstage dressing room footage, but this is a really classic performance that’s well-shot and recorded. The deeper insight into the performer I sought is not quite there, but it’s not a bad experience by any stretch; I highly recommend it to B.B.’s fans, and for everyone else, it’s probably worth a look.

This disc is available directly from Shout! Factory.