Samuel James

Portland, Maine is a funny place. It's small city, very small - so small that some people would call it a town. But nevertheless there are a few people here who maintain that it deserves more than its share.

Last night, like many Thursday nights, I went to Blue on Congress Street, almost directly across from the State Theater. Its a small lounge, more accurately a glorified walk-in closet, and its always just the right shade of dim. By itself, it's a great place: it has good (reasonably priced) drinks, a good selection of wine, art all over the walls, and a very chill atmosphere. But what makes it special, what really makes it pop, is its music.

One of the many performers who comes to Blue regularly is Samuel James. He's got two guitars (one of which is steel), red Converse All-Stars, usually a hat, and plenty of soul.

He's hewn from an old stock of blues guitarists, it seems to me, and has a style that's rarely seen up here in Maine. Its a deep, quick-witted, southern style. And, he's not afraid to play those guitars of his. When he pulls out the steel guitar, every foot in the place gets tapping. What the hell is someone that good doing in Portland?

Speaking of tapping feet, he uses his own as a percussion instrument. Some songs he plays without his feet, and others he plays with his shoes bearing down on a wooden board, just for added rhythm.

My evening at Blue last night was typical of my evenings with Sam James: a strong beer and a steady, steely beat that makes you forget about everything else except keeping up with the steam-powered locomotion of the music.

He's downright enchanting, and I cannot possibly do justice to him or his music here. If you'd like, you can give a listen. Samuel James performs at Blue every Thursday night at 10pm. He's also got a CD for sale, I believe, which you can get at Blue if you ask for it.