Heritage found

Guy Davis is keeper of days long-forgotten

by Mark Edmonds

When I first heard of Guy Davis, I have to admit, I found it hard to take him seriously. In an era when actors

frequently don guitars and live out musical fantasies, he seemed just another typical dabbler -- a guy who had taken to playing the blues because he played a bluesman somewhere along the line. On the cover of Stomp Down Rider (his first disc, released in 1995 on Red House), in fact, it seemed he was still in character. With his face screwed into a serious-looking scowl and a crushed fedora atop his head, he appeared every bit the bluesman straight from Central Casting -- that's all it took to land his disc in my drawer for a month.

I'm glad I eventually fished it out. Although Davis, who appears this Saturday along with blues/folk singer/songwriter Les Sampou at Concord's Emerson Umbrella, is an actor, he's one who's made a successful transition to credible musician. That's clear after a single listen to the live Rider and Call Down Thunder, a studio follow-up released in 1996.

Although he was raised far from the rural south (in Westchester County, New York), Davis, the son of actors Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, has studied the genre, its players, history, and culture intently. He's learned one of music's most important lessons -- you've gotta play from the heart. That's something he does on both discs, where he delivers performances that are full of fire, fury, and emotion. Although all of his material tends to be familiar -- covers by Deltans Robert Johnson, Reverend Gary Davis (no relation), Blind Willie McTell, and Texan Mance Lipscomb comprise much of Rider and a third of Thunder -- he does take chances by offering up a number of his own songs.

These more than stand up against the classics he covers. His "Wintertime Blues," on Rider, for example, is a dark and unhappy ode to lost love set in sparse three- and four-line verse structure that's every bit as powerful as the cover of Johnson's "Dust My Broom" that precedes it. "Long Train," from Thunder, supports Davis's liner notes' claim that "he could hear Bill Broonzy do this" with its galloping rhythm and huffing harmonica and guitar lines. And "I Got the Power" is a Son House-inspired number that simmers to a heavy drum-powered backbeat as it shows off Davis's impressive slide-guitar chops.

Singing all of these songs in a weary voice with a distinctive rasp that's equal parts Howlin' Wolf and Taj Mahal, Davis, you get the impression, has been working with an ax in his hands all of his life. "But," he cautions, "you know, I'm really not looking to imitate the old masters. I want to seek out what they were looking for. They lived in a time and in conditions we can't imagine living in now. Their character and spirit helped them, and that comes through in their music. I'm trying, I guess, to tap into that, but it's hard to really say I've touched it."

He credits his grandmother for his initial inspiration. "She was such a wonderful storyteller," he says. "Her tales would have amazed you, even if they weren't true. But they were."

He explains how she surprised him one day. "After I'd studied all the records I could get my hands on, I sat down and sung her a few lines I'd heard Blind Willie McTell do," he explains. "And she'd sing them back to me, adding a verse she'd heard my grandfather sing. I was astounded. It brought home to me just how much the blues was a part of the fabric of everyday life in my grandparents' day. . . . A lot of the lines in these songs were part of everyday speech. That tends to be forgotten today."

Some of his grandmother's stories appear in his live show as well as on his discs. "Gee the Mule," from Thunder, recalls the day Davis's grandfather tried to teach his family how to plow fields. "It was something they didn't really want to be part of," he says laughing. "They all went on to jobs off the farm, I think, because of that mule."

Currently, Davis is at work on his third disc. Although he plans to contemporize his music somewhat, he fears that may get him into trouble with his supporters, in the same way it did fellow country blues revivalist Keb' Mo' last year.

"Man expanded himself, and he won a Grammy," Davis notes. "But, still, people came down on him. I think it's important to allow artists to develop the way that they will. I've spoken to my contemporaries on this, and we all agree that we're keepers of a heritage. We're libraries full of music that has tremendous power and beauty. But we're not librarians or museum pieces. People should let us branch out."

Guy Davis joins Les Sampou at 8 p.m. on January 17 at the Emerson Umbrella, in Concord. Tickets are $15 and $17.50. Call 369-4127.