In April, legendary blues guitarist Buddy Guy was planning to make a bittersweet trip to Nevada to visit his old friend B.B. King, who was battling Father Time and the debilitating effects of diabetes before his death in May.

It would have been, no doubt, a chance to reminisce about the old days and to talk and think about where the music both men love is headed.

 

Buddy Guy thinks a lot about the Blues. It’s his lifeblood and his life’s work.

From the time when he was a little boy in Lettsworth, Louisiana (pop. 202 in 2005), within spitting distance of the Mississippi River and an old antebellum plantation house called the White Hall, Guy was always trying to make music.

 

He’d stretch old rubber bands over a piece of wood and pick away.

He has always been an innovator, stretching the limits of the blues guitar, even back in the 1940s.

“I used to try to make a guitar using a rubber band — anything that would make noise,” the 78-year-old said in a telephone interview. “I tell the young people...

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