I distinctly remember it like it was yesterday, but it was in the very early 1990s.  I was in Chicago for a Saturday of blues record shopping at Bob Koester’s renowned Jazz Record Mart, an evening of dining at one of my favorite Chicago steakhouses, and a trip to 423 E. 43^rd St., the south side location of The Checkerboard Lounge.  I was especially excited about my trip to the south side of the city, as I had not yet been able to see Vance Kelly and the Backstreet Blues Band, the aggregation Kelly had formed since striking out on his own. 

After my dinner, I got a cab to the club, and once I entered, I noticed the usual game of bid whist was taking place at the card table just to the right of the entrance, with the typical amount of spirited conversation freely flowing among the players.  The bar on the non-music side of the club was fairly busy with locals enjoying drinks and company, and as normal, a heavy haze of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air.  But, what most affected my immediate senses was the Tyrone Davis classic “Can I Change My Mind” being delivered at volume to what sounded like a highly-appreciative audience.

I turned toward the music room with its tiny stage, and long, narrow tables and chairs, and witnessed Kelly and his band delivering the Davis masterpiece with great enthusiasm.  Moreover, his efforts were rewarded with something not often seen in the south side clubs, with that being an animated visible and auditory response from the crowd; folks were waving their hands and encouraging the band.  Understand, the audience at The Checkerboard Lounge normally had its share of young blues fans from the nearby University Of Chicago, and the blues tourist crowd, but mostly, it consisted of people who lived in the adjacent neighborhood, folks just out for a good time, but not typically a group who shared more interaction than perhaps polite applause at the end of a song, if even that.

But not on this night; no, from the moment I walked into the club, the collective crowd was very appreciative to hear a diverse meld of music from Kelly and his band.  

As I have learned over the years, during a typical set of Kelly music in one of the deep south side Chicago blues clubs, or one of the trendy north side spots, one is just as liable to hear works by R&B artists like Tyrone Davis, Sam and Dave, or McKinley Mitchell as they are full-on blues.  Perhaps the set of music will include the work of the silky-smooth blues styles of artist like Bobby Bland or Johnnie Taylor.  Then again, the night may include renderings of early contemporary blues pioneers like Junior Parker.  Mix in some Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, and a good measure of Kelly’s original contemporary blues, and you have the ingredients of a typical Kelly show.  But make no mistake, Kelly is not imitator just going through the motions and making a living on the work of others.  Rather, he is, at one time, respectful and reverent, but also risky and groundbreaking.  He can work a crowd with a discriminating sense of its composition; hence, his necessary ability to provide what the communal mood dictates on any given night for any given audience. 

His guitar work is astounding in its flexibility and mastery of a breadth of styles, yet personalized with his subtle nuances.  His vocals drip with sinewy emotion, and his obvious dedication to band interaction and assimilation makes Kelly a lion of the blues who is a torchbearer carrying the blues, and related genres of music, forward.

Kelly is a Chicago native from the west side, having been born in 1954.  His father was involved with gospel music, and another relative, his uncle LeRoy McCauley, played blues on a part-time basis.  Due to these influences, Kelly’s interest in music was formed early, and he started playing rudimentary guitar at age seven.  By the age of ten, he performed blues for the first time at a Chicago school, and he continued his blues maturation by finding opportunities to sit-in with the city’s blues artists beginning at the young age of 15. 

Heading into the 1970s and the era of disco music, Kelly was not immune to its attraction, as he tried his hand with the music.  But Kelly’s musical route led him back to the blues by the later part of the 1970s.  However, Kelly not only took famed bluesmen such as Muddy Waters and B.B. King as his only influences (though they were of major inspiration upon him), as he also gravitated toward the soulful R&B musical style of Johnny Christian, a revered Chicago vocalist who had been on the Chicago scene since the 1950s, whose design merged blues and R&B. 

In the late 1980s, Kelly had his first break when he was approached to join A.C. Reed’s band, The Sparkplugs.  In the three years that Kelly was with Reed’s outfit, he was able to hone his unique guitar character, work on his vocals, and learn about life on the road and all that comes with it. 

Upon leaving Reed’s band, Kelly made the decision to stake his future on his own brand of music, attacking his blues career on his own.  Kelly knew that while he was quite adept at the blues form, his musical imprint had to include measures of R&B, soul, funk, and even some disco.  He didn’t feel as though he fit neatly inside a purely blues bag. 

Kelly initially selected a prime group of bandmates, including ex-Muddy Waters guitar man John Primer, ex-Howlin’ Wolf saxophone player Eddie Shaw, Erskine Johnson handling keyboard responsibilities, Johnny Reed holding-down the low end on bass, and David Honeyboy plying his harmonica skill set.

As mentioned before, Kelly had played before enough audiences to know that on any given night, what moved a crowd the night before may not do so the next evening, so he wanted to be broad enough as an artist to be able to accurately read the audience’s desires and thus be able to thoroughly deliver according to their expectations. 

One important move Kelly made was to sign with Austria’s Wolf Records.  To-date, Kelly has released and been featured on ten collections with Wolf Records, with 1994’s Call My Job being the catalyst that propelled Kelly and his band to greater public awareness, both in Chicago and to the greater blues audience outside of Chicago.  Call My Job was recognized as the winner of the Living Blues Award for Best Contemporary Blues Album.

Kelly followed-up in 1995 with Joyriding In The Subway, and on this Wolf label release, he enlisted the aid of his daughter, Vivian Kelly, on vocal duties.  The album was a critical and fan success, yet again.  As has proven to be Kelly’s stylistic recording and performance mold, this set included tunes from a diverse set of influences and artists, including his old boss A.C. Reed, bluesman Little Milton, and Tyrone Davis. 

Piggybacking from his two initial recording successes in the mid-1990s, Kelly has continued to record for Wolf, and be in-demand on the club circuit.  He has also played the Chicago Blues Festival, as recently as 2022, and has visited Europe for a number of tours.  Nothing has changed in the way that Kelly approaches a show; a diverse stylistic mix dependent upon the mood of the assembled audience. 

Kelly’s notoriety and popularity remains firm in Chicago, though it has expanded outside of the city’s limits due to his consistently solid recordings and occasional tour forays. 

Sometimes attending a blues show in Chicago can be discouraging, especially in the north side clubs, as generally the notorious “set list from hell” will be rolled-out (i.e., “Mustang Sally”, “Sweet Home Chicago”, “The Blues Is Alright”, etc.).  But at a Vance Kelly show, expeditions into R&B, soul, blues, disco, and even rock-n-roll will most likely rolled-out, replete with layered vocals, a dedication to the satisfactory experience of each audience member, and a general dedication that the same old “lump-de-lump” Chicago blues is not on the menu. 

Vance Kelly’s diversity makes him stand out from the blues crowd.  Pick up one of his first two Wolf label collections, and from there, I am confident that you’ll be hooked.