All-Star Band (Rock's 1st Generation)

It is a still, humid night in Biloxi, Mississippi in the 1950s. A keen ear could hear the bass guitar from a quarter mile in either direction along Highway 90. Tonight, the local road house is hosting a fantasy band. It's a moment that never actually happened, but could have. The band in question is The Powerhouse, a classic R & B outfit guaranteed to leave every audience member sweaty and smiling by the end of the evening.
Based in the blues, the rhythm section of The Powerhouse consists of drummer Sam Lay, and bassist Willie Dixon. Both Lay and Dixon participated in the electrification of the blues: Lay played drums on Bob Dylan's first full-band rock album, Highway 61 Revisited, and Dixon was a producer for Chess records, as Chicago electrified the Delta Blues sound. Dixon's Southern style and Lay's irresistible shuffle beats resonate with the Mississippi fans, a salt-and-pepper mixture of young people brought together by the music.
Two musicians occupy more than their fair share of the stage tonight. Grinning broadly and turned to face the audience, Fats Domino's arms bounce up and down on his piano's keys. His compatriot, saxophonist and rabble-rouser Louis Jordan dances on the stage. Jordan hollers at the audience between sax solos, but never misses a beat when his break is next. He swings his saxophone back and forth, playing short bursts of lively notes and looking Domino in the eye, daring him to try and respond. Domino answers easily, amplifying Jordan's phrases with energetic boogie-woogie runs up and down the keyboard.
The only white performer on stage, Scotty Moore stands stage right with his feet together. He is as calm as Domino and Jordan are frantic, but his hands are faster than anything else on stage. Moore's fingers find ever higher notes in the scale, never missing a step. He relaxes between instrumental bars, strums the rhythm for a while, then flicks a switch and starts the next solo. His guitar echoes back and forth within the crowd, sounding like it's coming from everywhere at once. The noise is tremendous, and the crowd can't get enough. Moore finishes a solo, takes a step back, and smiles at Domino and Jordan, who nod and fill in the space left behind with their playful melodies.
At the center of the stage, like the eye of the storm, stands Willie Mae "Big Mama" Thornton, swinging her arms and hips to the beat of Lay and Dixon. She is singing a song written by Dixon, but no one in the audience knows. To the kids bouncing and shaking in front of the stage, Big Mama is the Reverend, and one does well to heed her words, regardless of author. A gospel veteran, Big Mama is used to their attention. She channels it, breathes deep, and belts out the next verse. Her voice is so deep it's almost a growl, and she never holds back. In fact, Big Mama's voice is so powerful she stands two full steps back from the microphone, and still fills the venue.
The Powerhouse have reached the song's climax, and Big Mama turns and glances at Dixon. Lay notices the signal, and he doubles his shuffle beat as Dixon changes keys. Domino and Moore will take solos soon, but first Jordan has something to say. Jordan lets his sax dangle, and jumps to the front of the stage. Without a microphone, Jordan entices to clap along. He hoots and hollers, "Louder!" as he begins his solo. Jordan's improvised melody dances around Dixon's walking bass line; Big Mama can be heard humming along in approval although she is nowhere near a microphone. Jordan holds the last note of his solo into the next measure, and Domino picks up the cue. He plays all over the bass line like Jordan, but he hits the keys fast enough to keep up with Lay's double shuffle. The crowd loves this: not a single person in the road house is sitting down. Following Jordan's lead, he plays just a little too long, signaling to Moore that it's his turn. Moore turns, looks at Big Mama with reverence, and pulls his shoulders up as he doubles and triples Dixon's bass notes. It's clear now why there is one white musician in an all black R & B band: this man has soul. Big Mama is obviously pleased with Moore's chops, and joins the audience in clapping along, again at the insistence of Jordan.
A slight relaxing in Moore's form signals the final, familiar blues-style turnaround ending. The Powerhouse follows suit, holding on to the tension of the song for just another moment. All six musicians are alert and on time, breathing deep into their respective instruments. They are focused on keeping the song alive, and they are all consummate professionals at this task. The kids hope it will never end.