Indestructible R. J. Mischo – Mouse Man with the Devil’s Own Character!

The hero of “oral harmonica” blues, R. J. Mischo, is a member of the younger generation of blues musicians (relatively speaking, of course), whose musical and personal roots reach deep into the blues revival of the 1980s. Sure, R. J. Mischo is young, at least from the standpoint of your average blues enthusiast, who knows all too well how miserable the blues’ status as a genre is these days. But this “youngster” has enough experience to put his talents on full display, and last night they thoroughly wrung out even the Postojna crowd, which has seen its share of “rough stuff.”

Fortunately, Mischo doesn’t chip away at his established, well-worn musical image with circus-style clowning or, even worse, macho posturing, which sadly is so common among many of his peers. At its core, his performance is raw agitation soaked in intense emotion, set in the typical down-home simplicity of the American South, but it’s not above flirting with the rhetoric of urban Chicago. Despite frequently reaching for tricks that are not exactly “vintage,” R.J. stays as basic and gritty as can be. His “roughness” and his sharpened, granite-hard blues, drawing inspiration from deep in the legacy of traditional American “groove” music, add up to a unique whole, which you could also see as a kind of upgrade of the now-legendary mouth-harp antics in the style of Little Walter or, if I may be a bit bold, even Sonny Boy Williamson. R. J. proved that besides his exceptional playing chops, he also has an incredibly sharp sense for taming a crowd, which he kept in tense anticipation the whole time by constantly, and often wittily, jumping between nearly animal growling and refined “bluesy” address. An invaluable quality you can barely find in modern performers anymore!

Around the unmistakable sound of the harmonica, R. J. Misho has built a lineup suited to the occasion: three unsuspecting helpers whose main job is to provide neat arrangements so the boss can convincingly show off his impressive lung capacity in favorable climatic conditions. It’s worth mentioning that Uncle Mischo blows into his beloved mini wind instrument with such force and enthusiasm that at times it seems the gent has a spare lung lobe stashed somewhere. Definitely good preparation for bravely taking on arrangements that are exceptionally demanding vocally too, split roughly 1:3 between dynamic instrumentals and, let’s say, “songs for normal people.” Mischo first treated us to the excellent I Got A Feeling, a bouncy bluesy number that instantly gave the evening just the right unpredictable edge. And even though Mischo is clearly a harp fanatic, his playing leaves plenty of room for vocals too, no less impressive than the much-mentioned harmonica. In a harmony of voice and harp, the gent took us on a stormy ride through Put You Down and the slightly “friendlier” Little Village, which, as expected, calmed the heated passions down nicely. “When I was 16, I saw Muddy Waters play for the first time in my life, and my life changed forever” were the words of the evening’s main man before the opening bars of the meaningful My Muddy Story, which in the blink of an eye stretched a solid bridge of emotion across the main hall of Hotel Jama, a special, inexplicable kind of emotional agitation that only confirmed Mischo’s understandable feeling at coming face to face with one of the most eminent figures of blues culture. What can I say. If only everyone got a chance like that.

Well, no point moaning about what we’ve missed! Muddy or no Muddy, The Pull, 20 % Alcohol and especially the fantastic One Good Woman brought us dangerously close to another blues legend, this time Buddy Guy. A touch of “Guy-esque” audacity was added by Mike, less active physically but all the more fired up as a performer, a guy with a well-developed sense for making the most of the independent character of guitar minimalism, whose bold toying with supposedly “untouchable” blues motifs earned loud approval from the crowd.

The big return to the roots of the blues, and for me personally a hardly expected flirtation with the musical legacy of the Mississippi Delta, whose treasures are jealously hidden from overly curious eyes under thick layers of dust, arrived with an imposing trio of intensely seasoned traditional blues cooking, this time courtesy of three unforgettable sweethearts: Baby, I Don’t Care, It’s My Life Baby and I Love My Baby! Mischo is simply a man of passion, and the picture the gent paints on stage is fired up accordingly. Although the unexpected return to rural blues, in the spirit of Sonny Boy Williamson and often backed only by curt thumping on the bass drum, was probably too big a bite for most of the Postojna audience, with Dance Signorina, Just Can’t Say and Meet Me the evening as a whole tipped in favor of exciting and generally more palatable blues-rock parading. Just in case, Mischo pulled Taste Of My Own Medicine out of his sleeve (what could that possibly be?) along with Shake Your Boogie, both a fitting way to neutralize that unmistakable whiff of the countryside. No two ways about it. R. J. Mischo is definitely one of the best blues musicians of our time and currently one of the more important innovators of primal blues, whose tireless and, above all, convinced efforts pour fresh life into the blues as a genre.

Words: Daniel Pavlica

Photos: Daniel Pavlica