Concert review: Lucero and Black Joe Lewis at the Longhorn Saloon in Fort Worth (May 9)

by Staff of The Gobblers Knob

It’s clearly taken me a few days to get to this, but chances are, you weren’t aware that I was going to do this, so I guess we are even (if that even applies here). I will say, the impression left on me from the show by Lucero and Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears at the Longhorn Saloon is so ingrained on my brain that I could write a few thoughts on it just as clearly, even if it were another week or two or three or four.

I went to the show to see the great Lucero, out of Memphis. Their catalog of hard-driving rock with a hint of twang and a dash of Born to Run has feverishly itched my scratch for quite some time now and getting the chance to catch them for the first time while making my first trip to the restored Longhorn Ballroom sounded like a great plan. Something interesting, however, happened between my anticipation of hearing Ben Nichols’ growl live, and in person and going home, convinced that Lucero would be my next child’s name…Black Joe Lewis and The Honeybears took the stage and made the Saloon their collective woman.

Black Joe Lewis and The Honeybears, out of Austin, aren’t a secret by any means, I am just a tad behind. I have read many positive reviews on not only their recent album, but their live show as well. For whatever reason, I wasn’t anything above slightly intrigued as to see what all the fuss has been about regarding the soul-rockers. Opening up with the James Brown-esque “Sugarfoot” and then romping into “Big Booty Woman”, Lewis lead his able band through numbers that not only were rocking the crowd, but were setting the stage for a letdown as far as the headlining act was concerned. The horn section’s notes were bursting off the stage only slightly more urgently than Lewis’ vocals during “Get Yo S**t”. The story of a man that has done wrong trying to make it sound like he didn’t do so wrong is as fantastic an ode to a predicament that most of us guys have found ourselves in at one time or another as there is. After only 45 minutes, Lewis and The Honeybears left the stage to make room for the headliners.

After what must have been the quickest set-change ever for two bands that both had full set-ups (about 15 minutes), Ben Nichols grumbled out something to the effect of “Let’s go boys.” The band ran through many early-era crowd-pleasers. With songs such as “Nights Like These,” “Aint So Lonely,” and “Joining the Army,” Nichols acted as more crowd sing-along leader than lead vocalist, as super-fans wailed each note to each song, making even the distinctive vocal of Nichols relatively useless, as it could barely be detected above the collective performance of those in attendance. I don’t say that as a bad thing. I’ve been known to come home with a scratchy throat after a Wilco or Reckless Kelly show. Even with the crowd roaring their approval for each song choice, and Lucero putting on what is likely one of their standard, great shows, I couldn’t escape the fact that I felt a bit of a let-down, as the energy from the stage was at a much lower level than it had been when Lewis had been performing.

All in all, I was served another reminder of why it isn't ever really a great idea to miss the opening band. As one dumb southerner once said, “You never know what you’re gonna get.” In my case, it was a latter-day Apollo prophet with a band of Honeybears that came to tear up the Stockyards.