Buddy Guy

Whatever you do, don't tell Buddy Guy to play the blues. It should be obvious, but one woman made that very mistake near the end of the Chicago guitar hero's previous House of Blues appearance in October 2009. "What the fuck do you think I've been doing all night?" Guy shot back. He's no shrinking violet, but Guy is a master of give and take, both in his repartee with the audience and his feverish musical conversations with his trusty Telecaster. Once an apprentice to legends Muddy Waters and Guitar Slim, the 74-year-old is now one of the genre's elder statesmen, and riding a decade-long renaissance that began with 2001's Sweet Tea. His last two albums, 2008's Skin Deep and last year's Living Proof, are among his most personal, revisiting the segregated South of Guy's Louisiana childhood on the former and contemplating mortality in a most cantankerous way ("Let the Doorknob Hit Ya," "Stay Around a Little Longer") with longtime friends Carlos Santana and B.B. King on the latter. Live, besides his own standards like "Damn Right I've Got the Blues," Guy covers the waterfront of friends and influences from John Lee Hooker to Cream, and usually goes the extra mile in Houston due to all the family he has here.


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