As Dexys’ Kevin Rowland told the Guardian recently, it was seeing Geno Washington perform “in 1968 in a sweaty club” that made him want to become a singer, and inspired the band’s 1980 smash hit, Geno. At a party in Manchester, Washington also told a young Ian Brown that he looked like a star, which prompted the Mancunian to start the Stone Roses. Neither seminal incident should overshadow the fact that Washington’s many albums – particularly those with his Ram Jam Band in the 1960s – make him a legendary soulman in his own right.
He’s 70 now and doesn’t come on with his “towel swingin’ high” like in Geno, but calmly places it on the bass drum. However, when he turns around, all big grins and gunslinger poses and opens his mouth to sing, he looks and sounds almost half his age. His concerts aren’t just musical performances so much as encounters with a Herculean shtick, as Washington jokily abuses his musicians and unveils a succession of increasingly tall tales. There’s one about how the police took his “daddy” away, another about how bluesman Big Willie had a spell put on him and became, er, Little Willie.
It’s a shame that Washington hasn’t brought his regular brass section to the Met, as he eschews soul music in favour of standards from his early, bluesman days. It’s hard to inject much new life into such well-worn songs, but the American-turned-UK resident storms through his friend Van Morrison’s Gloria “just to piss him off” and insists that Little Red Rooster is played “Indiana style” (backwards).
One wonders what he could do with more contemporary material, but his performance never stops giving. “I’m going to move to Bury. House prices will tumble!” he cries as Jumpin’ Jack Flash careers into Wild Thing. People chant “Geno! Geno!”, then form an orderly queue to shake his hand.
• At Ilfracombe blues festival on 14 November. Box office: 01472 349222.
