If you love the blues like I do, then I think you’ll enjoy this article about BB King that popped up in Google Reader from an unlikely source: a Brit who traveled to Mississippi to see him play in his hometown:

The fat red sun settles itself against the horizon, throwing a last, honey-sweet light through humid evening and over a small crowd on the lawn beside a railroad track that cuts through the cotton fields beyond. A quarter-moon rises and a chorus of cicadas serenades imminent twilight, now conjoined by the sound of the band; the drummer catches the backbeat and the compere announces: “How about an Indianola hometown welcome for the one-and-only King of the Blues: BB KING!”

And on he comes, to applause from people who know him well and claim him as their own – the last of the blues masters a few weeks short of his 87th birthday. “Nice evening, isn’t it?” he says, and introduces his nephew on sax. Some of his 15 children (all by different mothers) and innumerable grandchildren are in the audience, though one of his daughters died recently of diabetes, as had BB’s mother – a poignant riptide beneath the occasion. “I guess you can look at me,” he says from the stage, “and tell I’m the old man. My name is BB King.” Full story at: BB King at 87: the last of the great bluesmen | Music | The Observer.

I’m so thankful I got to hear him live in Green Bay at the Oneida Casino back in May. Treat yourself to his top 10 songs on Spotify while you read the article…