Taj Mahal Live Review @ The Bridgewater Hall (Manchester) - 21 Jun 2005

Photos:Elly Roberts

Live Review

Guitar toting Bluesman Taj Mahal flooded the Bridgewater Hall with his unique blend of eclectic fusions. Waves and waves of exotic blues, to equally match his stage name and shirt, gushed out of his Gibson guitars, Roland keyboard and banjo. Despite the lower than expected turnout, and possibly the inappropriate venue in terms of intimacy, he turned on the predictable style as part of his latest outfit, The Taj Mahal Trio. Formed three years ago with long-time cohort, bassist Bill Rich and relative newcomer, sticksman Kester Smith, they rate as a formidable threesome. Rock solid in the rhythm section, they laid the foundation for Taj, (real name Henry St. Claire Fredericks) to layer deft touches on picks and riffs.

Like many of his great predecessors and contemporaries, he has the ultimate ‘touch factor’ from the school of B.B. King, Paul Kossoff, Peter Green, Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton. Never OTT, his guitar style is well into the economy class, but with fantastic effect. On the night there wasn’t a hit song in sight, but a huge reputation for influencing a generation of aspiring young black bluesmen such as ‘musical son’ Eric Bibb. Without the aid of a setlist(Jazz and Blues players rarely have one)it was often difficult to identify song titles, compounded by a lack of clarity on the microphone early on. Speaking less than Eric Clapton on a good night, he regularly mumbled to himself. On the keys he sang a delightful Little Bit Heaven, bobbing his head more than David Gray ever does. His possible signature tune, the country fuelled Fishin’ Blues was a defining moment. Creating images of Caribbean stylings, which he dabbled with in the early 70s, When I Feel The Sea Beneath My Soul took his eclecticism to a higher level. Other delights included the hilariously simplistic Ah Ha Ah Ha Blues, which contained no further lyrics.

Clapton is nicknamed ‘Slow Hand’, Mahal therefore must be ‘Slow, Slow Slow Hand. ’

Meeting with the great man after the show, he resembled an older guy from the ‘hood : black hat and pants, and white tunic. His enormous and imposing frame defied the gentleness of his songwriting and deftness of touch. Polite to a fault, we briefly spoke; he signed my CD, I had some pictures with him and off he drifted into the night.

Sensational night.

Elly Roberts