No Longer Crushing Guitars, Still Devastating Audiences
Chris Manson August 12, 2004 Issue

Hans McMiniman told me the old bluesman got his nickname one night at a club in New York City. “Someone got nasty with a lady, and Sidney crushed a guitar over his head.”

Hardly sounded like the warm and friendly fellow I met at the Funky Blues Shack. But then again, nobody in the well-behaved crowd of blues fans gave Sidney “Guitar Crusher” Selby a reason to live up to his handle. Joined by McMiniman on guitar and Joe “Fingers” Fuller on keyboards, Crusher treated the diverse audience to classics and a handful of memorable original songs. Crusher’s 72-year-old voice is ragged but right; when he warbled Jimmy Reed’s Bright Lights, Big City, I figured he must have done the song thousands of times before, yet McMiniman’s dynamic guitar playing and Fuller’s nifty keyboard work seemed to inspire him.

“We met in 1993 when I worked with Katie Webster, the great boogie blues singer and piano player,” McMiniman said. “She had a stroke one night when we were playing in Crusher’s hometown (Freiburg, Germany), and he got up there and saved the gig.”

The two have remained good friends for over a decade. Crusher performed most of the time he was in town, and received a warm reception everywhere he appeared—the Funky Blues Shack, Destin Commons, Baytowne Wharf, and WaterColor at Seagrove Beach, where McMiniman has a steady solo gig every Friday afternoon. This marked singer/guitarist/harmonica player Crusher’s second trip to the area this year. In February, he and wife Mara visited the McMinimans, and it rained the whole time.

“I was born in North Carolina in 1931,” Crusher said. “I grew up in the church.” In 1947, young Selby left for New York to stay with his mother, full of musical experiences and ambition. Little Richard, Fats Domino, and Louis Jordan were early influences, but Crusher also had the good fortune to witness the birth of bebop—Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Max Roach. His aunt was in charge of a club on a military base where Count Basie and Duke Ellington regularly performed at dances.

McMiniman describes his friend’s style as “somewhere in between Wilson Pickett, Ray Charles, and B.B. King. He covers a lot of good soul tunes, down home blues, and big city tunes. It’s just fun playing with him. An old gentleman of the blues—there’s not too many of them around from that generation.”

“Goddamn rheumatism, I can’t really use my right hand,” Crusher said during a break at the Funky Blues Shack. He pulled up his shirt and showed me the scar from the heart operation he underwent in 1998. “My heart took a lickin’ but kept on tickin’!” he laughed. Crusher still managed to strum a few chords while McMiniman played lead guitar, and his breathless harmonica playing suggested years of smoke- and drug-free living. The blues man’s only vice seems to be the occasional glass of red wine.

His appearance at the small venue climaxed with a high-spirited rendition of The Blues Is Alright. Crusher sauntered into the audience and encouraged a mighty call and response. At one in the morning, as the crowd was thinning out, Fuller returned to the piano and Crusher sang a heartfelt Stand by Me, the Ben E. King favorite.

“He’s the most soulful and easiest guy I’ve ever worked with,” Fuller said. “I can mess up, and he’ll say, ‘That’s all right, man.’ I think it’s kind of sad that he had to go to Berlin to make a name for himself. But if anyone can get Calvin Owens to do all the horn charts for his album, he’s got to be well thought of there.” Owens is renowned for his work with B.B. King—he arranged the 1995 Sidney “Guitar Crusher” CD Message to Man, which also featured three songs by McMiniman and lead guitar by Ten Years After’s Alvin Lee.

The next evening, McMiniman accompanied Crusher in the fountain area behind Acme Oyster House at Baytowne Wharf. The more relaxed setting didn’t stop the duo from giving intense readings of Hound Dog and Hoochie Coochie Man. Crusher’s inventive phrasing on Georgia on My Mind made for a nice Ray Charles tribute. McMiniman got off some nice bass note runs (Willie Nelson style), and Crusher’s harmonica bursts were well timed. Fuller dropped by during one of his breaks—he was performing with a band at nearby Hammerheads—and clearly enjoyed Crusher’s world-class wailing on Stormy Monday and A Change Is Gonna Come.

The latter, popularized by Sam Cooke during the height of the civil rights struggle, brought up some memories of Crusher’s previous trips to the south. “During the 1960s, I played with Ben E. King, the Drifters, the Isley Brothers,” Crusher recalled. “I had two or three thousand dollars in my pocket, and I couldn’t go no damn where to get nothing to eat. I had to get a damn can of pork and beans.”

Crusher continues to tour all over Europe—he’s especially well liked in Italy and Spain. McMiniman estimated the seasoned performer still does about 70 gigs a year. Crusher hopes to return to Destin early next year to perform and possibly record with McMiniman.

“Play ‘til you drop. This is something you don’t want to retire from,” McMiniman said. He hopes he’s still keeping on at Crusher’s age. “He’s a good role model for people over 70. He still has lots of ideas and things he wants to do. As long as you’re doing something, you never really get old.”

(Top)

Back to Musician Profiles