Koko a true blues queen

Taylor, band entertained a full Finney Saturday

The crowd that had packed Finney Chapel for the 8 p.m. show on Saturday night emerged from the concert two hours and one blue-sequined, blonde-extension-wearing, soul-grinding queen of the blues later, with smiles that could only be matched by the beaming queen, herself. The queen in question is none other than Koko Taylor, fronting her Blues Machine to deliver a performance that combined healthy amounts of glitz and grit in all the right places.

Whether issuing bone-curdling shrieks or whispering sweet laments, Koko was out to prove that her status as "undisputed queen of the blues" is much more than just a glimmer in the eye of her promotional agency. Even for those who remain loyal subjects of Etta, Bessie or Aretha, there can be no dispute that this is a woman who preaches from the pulpit of long-lived experience. It is a gospel of vibrant sexuality, the trials of living an existence in and out of dingy bars and nightclubs, and a powerful statement of womanhood.

Koko knows that when singing the blues, if it isn't hitting loud and hard it had better be quiet as hell. The real power of her voice is not only in her ability to belt out the blues with the best of them, but also in the notes that get caught between her diaphragm and larynx to emerge as a wheezy, gut-wrenching whisper.

The Blues Machine - guitarists Calvin "Vino" Louden and Luke Strong, bassist Melvin "Youngblood" Smith, keyboardist John Cattke and Richard King on drums - delivered stellar support and contributed a charismatic style of their own with some awkward choreography and other crowd-riling antics. Before the queen even stepped onto the stage, the band showcased their talent as Louden tore into his semi-hollow body Gibson, echoing a late Albert King and Rick King laid down the solid backbeat that would be the staple of the evening's performance.

Koko's repertoire was comprised of such ubiquitous blues classics as Robert Johnson's "Sweet Home Chicago," and Jerry Lieber's "Hound Dog," which she dedicated to another queen of the blues, Big Mama Thornton and the King, himself: Elvis Presley. The most conspicuous omission from the program was "Wang Dang Doodle," the hit that brought her to initial fame in 1965 as a discovery of blues great Willie Dixon.

Although Koko typically comes up about three verses short of lyrics for each song, perhaps it is because the ones she has are worthy of being heard more than once. She left the audience wide-eyed with brazen assertions of her sexuality such as "I'm a woman, I'm a ball of fire...I'm a woman, I'll make love to a crocodile," and displayed a succinct poignancy with the Etta James ballad "I'd Rather Go Blind" as she wailed "So you see, I'd rather go blind than to see you walk away from me."

Following a grim portrait of womanhood in "Come Home to Momma," she won the crowd over as she took them into confidence to say, "...when you're run out all over town, come home to momma...but momma didn't promise to have the door open."

Queenly titles aside, Koko is undeniably the genuine article: a venerable living member of the vital American blues tradition. When asked what it is like to work with her, drummer King responded, "Koko is incredible. This is a woman who's been through countless trials in her life, yet when she steps on the stage she gives it everything she's got, no matter what." It shows.

Sparkles and glam: Taylor and her Blues Machine left Finney in an uproar with her classic, smooth-talkin' blues. (photo by Laren Rusin)