Morgan Davis is a bluesman to the core. He grew up in Detroit, practically marinating in the early rhythm and blues of the city. Later, he cut his chops in early 70s Toronto, where he learned directly from legends like Muddy Waters, Hubert Sumlin and Howlin鈥� Wolf.
He delivers reminiscences about those times with such clarity you can almost smell the nicotine smoke and hear the mic鈥檚 tinny echo at those early jams.
Names slide out of him so nonchalantly it鈥檚 almost impossible to catch them all. Die-hard blues fans will recognize them as the greats of their era, and to the musical tourist, names like Bukka White, Johnny Shines and Sunnyland Slim seem almost too bluesy to be real.
鈥淎ll these guys, man; so humble and no rock star attitude. Anybody in the world can walk up and talk to these guys. And if you love their music it just flips them out,鈥� he says.
There鈥檚 a rhythm and cadence in the way Davis speaks, like he never quite stops singing the blues. And in a way that鈥檚 almost literally true.
People often talk of the road warrior鈥攖he touring artist that spends long stretches on the road and plays non-stop gigs. Davis eclipses that title: road gladiator might be a more appropriate title.
Last year, at the age of 65, he did his longest tour of his life, playing 102 gigs over 110 nights. With no roadie backing him up, he does all the driving himself, subsisting on road food and banking cash for when he gets back home.
鈥淲hen I鈥檓 on the road I just burn, I keep going, but when I get home for a few days I just lay on the couch,鈥� he says with a warm chuckle. 鈥淏lues guys don鈥檛 retire. Every single one of 鈥榚m plays until they drop. And that鈥檚 what I aim to do.鈥�
When Davis plays the Olive Bistro Oct. 4, it will be at the tail end of a string of gigs at house parties, and it鈥檚 just one of about 20 shows he will play this month.
He鈥檚 most comfortable on stage with just himself and a guitar, and in people鈥檚 homes鈥攚here they are there to listen, not 鈥済et drunk or get laid, or get into a fight鈥濃�攚here he has their full attention. He can get whisper quiet, or play with the dynamics, pushing himself as a musician and performer.
鈥淚鈥檝e been doing this 45 years, and I鈥檝e never had any rock star fantasies. I don鈥檛 want to play the [huge venues], because my music doesn鈥檛 work for 10,000 people, it works in small places. And so I鈥檓 thinking small, and it鈥檚 working really well for me.鈥�
His humility is the same he saw his heroes display, but it doesn鈥檛 mean Davis hasn鈥檛 been recognized. Over his career he鈥檚 won a Juno for blues album of the year, countless accolades from industry publications and so many Maple Blues Awards that鈥檚 it鈥檚 not even worth counting.
He doesn鈥檛 mention those, though; he seems more concerned about getting to the next gig.
Blues guys never retire, after all, and Davis won鈥檛 quit until he drops.
Trevor Nichols
[email protected]
