At C. Davis Bar-B-Q, his Reed Road haunt for a quarter-century, I.J. Gosey often perches, legs crossed at the ankles, on a chair or sometimes on an amp. But sooner or later, the blues brew he cooks up overcomes him. That's when he ever so slowly rises to his feet, the better to testify what he's feeling. It's understated as theatrics go, but packed with emotion nonetheless, and as telling in its own way as one of Keith Moon's drumquakes or Jimi... More >>>