Us King Harvest guys were approached one day in Paris by a very large black man from Chicago who needed a band to back him up. That was Lincoln Thomas Beauchamp III, Chicago Beau. We did a few rehearsals with him and his running mate from Chicago, Julio Finn, half brother to Billy Boy Arnold and a wicked harp player and bluesman. (Julio in later years wrote a scholarly book about the black experience in America called “The Bluesman”, an extremely good book.) We were the Chicago Beau Blues Band or maybe it was the Julio Finn Blues Band at the time – I seem to remember several cognac fuelled discussions about whose name should be on the headline. We were joined on this fandango by Steve Potts, sax player extraordinaire, also from Chicago. We all piled into Doc’s Ford Econoline and headed north to Holland, Beau in the shotgun seat. I made a bid to sit in front for a while but Beau pointed out, If I get back there, all you fools will have to sit up here.” I couldn’t fault the logic.
The gig, as much as anyone can remember of it was at Paradisio’s. It’s like the old joke, “If you can remember it you probably weren’t there,” It was a grand old hall that you got up into by massive stone steps – that was the gauntlet you had to run before you got into the club, accosted at every step by drug hawkers aggressively touting their particular brand of poison. Being what we were, we immediately scored about a shoeful of what the guy claimed was cocaine. We did pretty well for one set – had the room captivated. The second set was pretty rough because the Bolivian marching powder, veterinary procaine I reckon, had kicked us right up the bum. Pottsy and Novak couldn’t feel their lips which made it hard to play the sax. They were blowing a gale but nothing was coming out so they resorted to rhythm instruments, maracas and tambourines.
The Aftermath – “Shaft”
Chicago Beau Website
