No Blue Monday at Gator'z

Hard-core fans get it. They know that the old stereotype of the blues being a sad man's music and a jilted woman's sound of suffering is a tired image that belies the true nature of the songs.

Because there's a joyful side to the blues, a camaraderie that comes through musicians who know how to take the traditional 12-bar and 8-bar songs, the turnarounds, the instrumental breakdowns and the traditions, and deliver them in a way that fills up your soul the way all good music should. In the right hands - like those of the artists featured in the Legendary Rhythm and Blues Revue at Gator'z nightclub near the University of Toledo Monday night -- the blues is ecstatic music, thrilling even.

Led by Tommy Castro and his band featuring a rhythm section and two horn players, the Revue rocked about 600 people who ventured out into the foggy night for a marathon, four-hour show that carried its own momentum and never let up. The format was simple: Castro played a short set of about a half dozen songs before sharing the stage with the other artists: first Deanna Bogart, then Magic Dick, and finally Ronnie Baker Brooks. Then they took a short break to sign autographs and meet fans before launching into a one hour jam.

Castro is the ideal foil for such an undertaking, which was first experimented with on a "blues cruise" where various artists, including those in the Revue, are featured on theme cruise ships. He plays his black Fender Stratocaster with just the right amount of sting and a near-perfect tone. A San Jose, California native who has recorded 10 albums, he can handle any lead roles, but settles into a comfortable complementary role that is generous to his fellow musicians and devoid of ego.

Bogart, who originally is from Detroit and has recorded six albums, is a force on the piano, equal parts Jerry Lee Lewis boogie-woogie and Pinetop Perkins soul. A natural showman, she also played saxophone, standing on the drum stand to blow out powerful leads. She finished her set with a long rendition of "Still the Girl in the Band," pounding on her piano with her feet.

Magic Dick followed her on the harmonica, offering up his distinctive Chicago-style blues that turn the simple harp into combination of a saxophone or trumpet and guitar.The former member of the J. Geils Band played with a loose swagger, tearing through tunes like "Pontiac Blues" and "No Sleepingest Women" that he originally recorded with his band Bluestime and demonstrating a singing voice that has become a fine instrument on its own.

When he and the band flew into their version of the Geils hit "Give It To Me" with Dick playing reggae harmonica and Castro and Bogart trading vocal lines, the show took on a heightened energy level as if someone nudged the accelerator a little closer to the floor. Dick also pulled out his classic harp workout, "Whammer Jammer," and the explosive Geils nugget "Looking for A Love" during the encore.

Baker Brooks, the son of the legendary bluesman Lonnie Brooks followed and was fantastic, playing everything with funky gusto, giving the evening a more rocking vibe. He paid homage to Albert Collins with some nasty soloing and at one point pulled a Buddy Guy move and wandered deep into the audience while playing. He ended up behind the bar, pouring himself a stiff drink (it looked like rum and Coke) which he downed, all the while playing guitar. For good measure, Brooks used the bottle as a slide and ripped off a solo.

The jam, which Castro introduced by saying they had "no plan for whatsoever" was equally revelatory. On a night that was plagued with some P.A. problems and a bad amplifier, Bogart's piano balked before the issue was worked out and the jam gathered steam. The musicians watched each other intently, with Dick staring at Brooks and then vice versa as each took solos and wandered around in the music before finding their way back to the groove.

Sylvania guitarist Chris Shutters also took the stage, invited up by Castro as part of the Revue's effort to let a local musician share the stage for awhile. The kid -- he's 22 -- played with fire on "Superstition," trading leads with Brooks confidently and offering up sharp retorts to Bogart's scat singing, and even indulged in a blues flute jam.

By the time the show began to wind down at midnight, Brooks and Bogart were dancing together, Castro was wailing away, and Dick was bopping around with a big smile on his face and blasting out space-age harp riffs. All this and a flute jam. Who says the blues are no fun?