Gary Clark Jr. in Oakland

Gary Clark Jr. Photo by Mark Rudio

Like many people, my first exposure to Gary Clark Jr. was seeing his 2010 performance of "Bright Lights," filmed during Eric Clapton's Crossroads festival. As I watched him tear through two blistering solos on a red, hollow-bodied Epiphone, and was taken in by the song's refrain, "You're gonna know my name by the end of the night" which sounded more threatening than boastful, I thought to myself who is this guy?

The clip compelled me to check out the Bright Lights EP (2011), four tracks which cover a lot of ground, including solo acoustic versions of "Things are Changin''" which hinted that Clark was a lot more than just a new guitar sensation, and "When My Train Pulls In," an eight-minute display of hard acoustic blues, built on a riff that's as much "Rock Candy" as it "Voodoo Chile," with some flamenco tones thrown in for a little extra flavor. But it was the menacing, fuzz-toned title track that seared itself into my brain.

Bright Lights signalled Clark was someone to watch, but it didn't quite set the stage for 2012's Blak and Blu- a hard-rocking master class  in which Clark mines sixty-odd years of black music for inspiration and comes up with gold on every track. Opening with the sixties-tinged soul of  "Ain't Messin 'Round,"  followed by a molten electric version "When My Train Pulls In" he moves easily through scorching blues, fuzzed-out rock, some Glimmer Twins-infected glam, pop, hip-hop, and more. It's a remarkably cohesive album which succeeds in its intent to defy easy categorization or be pigeonholed into a single genre (or three). On top of all of that, Clark can sing (almost) as well as he can play the guitar- it's as easy to hear strains of Marvin Gaye and Sam Cooke in the music as it is Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughn (Clark, like Vaughn, hails from Texas).

The day after his first local headlining show at the Fox Theater was announced, Margarita and I were watching the first episode of House of Lies which ends (appropriately) with "Bright Lights" playing over the ending. About 10 seconds into the song she turned to me and said, "I really like this- who is it?"  I told her, mentioned the upcoming show, and plans were made then and there, including her cancelling a trip to L.A..

The Fox show sold-out, and there was a palpable buzz in the crowd when we entered the theater around 8:45. The floor was packed, but we snaked our way toward the front. Shortly after 9 the lights went down, the band strode onstage, and the Johnnies (Radelat on drums, Bradley on Bass) kicked it off with a thumping intro to  "Ain't Messin 'Round" which moved every hair on my body. Bradley plays the bass like it's a second kick drum, creating an enormously fat-bottomed sound. Radelat's style leans on heavy on the beat with few fills and a disdain for flourishes. Together they form a rhythm section that pounds like a jack hammer. Eric "King" Zapata is the second guitarist in the band, and I hesitate to describe him as a rhythm guitar player- in any other band he'd probably be the fucking star. His style is wholly different from Clark's; his more rock-oriented approach creates a stark contrast to Clark's acid-fuzz when he takes the lead, but together they create a monstrous, Spectoresque slab of sound. Zapata and Clark traded licks through an extended jam during the song, with Clark casually quoting the riff from Curtis Mayfield's "Pusherman" at one point. It was obvious there would be no "warming up."

From there they launched into blues territory, including a cover of Albert King's "Oh, Pretty Woman,"  followed by "When My Train Pulls In" with Zapata playing a double-neck guitar. Hearing it live, the opening riff sounds like a twist on Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well" and the two vastly different solo sections on the album version made a lot more sense to me listening Zapata taking the first one as the band began to sound like Crazy Horse on an extremely good night, then Clark followed with ample evidence of why he's being hailed as the "next Hendrix."

That's an probably an inevitable comparison, but not necessarily the right one. If Clark were white, people would probably say he's the "next Vaughn," yet this would still miss the mark, though as a guitarist he is undoubtedly that good. However, a more apt comparison may be that he's the next Prince, as the next song was the title track of the recent album- a turn in direction neither Hendrix nor Vaughn would have made in a million years, but a display of versatility that's a given for the Purple One, who. like Ernie Isley, has never been properly acknowledged for being an extraordinary guitar player because his (and Isley's) music wasn't geared toward rock audiences.

"Please Come Home" was another highlight, which found Clark doing his best Smokey-flavored vocal impression before melting the soul groove down to a metallic base, his right hand strumming so fast the sounds emanating from the guitar became a hazy blur wafting over the ballad's beat.

Throughout the two-hour set the band never let up and it's nothing against Clark's outsized talents to say they deserve to be recognized as more than a back-up band. This is a solid outfit and my previous comparison of them to Crazy Horse is deliberate: these guys kick ass, and while Clark's proven through numerous appearances with the Rolling Stones and others that he can hold his own with anyone, the trio behind him had a lot to do with making this one of the best gigs I've seen in some time, and Zapata especially, is hugely talented. Though this was evident from the beginning of the show, as they launched into the medley of "Third Stone From the Sun/If You Love Me Like You Say" it became obvious that this is a band that can play as they churned the sludge into a funky, reggae-tinged stomp that had the audience dancing along to a savage groove.

Clark's tour is taking him to smaller venues around the country through November. If you don't see him now, chances are the next time his train pulls in it's going to be at bigger venues. Believe the hype- you're gonna know his name.