Mull It Over 016: Woke Up This Morning
The blues are alive and well in the heart of Belfast. Chris Taplin and Co. continue the ruckus in The Empire basement.
It is nearly three years since Belfast blues legend Rab McCullough sadly passed away. A stalwart of the city’s blues scene with a career in music spanning decades and oceans, Rab’s famed Thursday night residency in Belfast’s Empire Bar lasted an incredible 21 years. That’s a lot of dancing. A lot of pints. A whole lot of minor pentatonic scales and a whole lotta love. When Rab left us in 2021, it was all but assumed that the iconic Thursday night would go with him. But it’s hard to keep a good man down; the spirit of Rab and his music lives on in the Empire basement, thanks in no small part to the wonderfully talented Chris Taplin and his motley band of merry men.
Now firmly cemented in the iconic Thursday night slot, The Chris Taplin Blues Band are keeping the memory alive. Not only of Rab, but of Muddy, Robert, Albert, B.B., Freddie, John Lee, Elmore and more and more. The bowels of the Empire bar continue to host a blues club to rival the likes of the infamous Ain’t Nothin’ But… in London and Arthur’s in Dublin. Except, unlike London, the Guinness is Guinness, and unlike Dublin, it’s less than €15 - for now.
I took a wander down to Botanic Avenue last Thursday on a pilgrimage that had been made many, many times before. Actually, my friend gave me a lift but that’s no way to start a blues verse, is it? Botanic keeps on changing. It now boasts the fancy, glass fronted House cocktail bar. Town Square just a few hundred yards up the road is a buzzy city hotel, the likes of which could have only been found in neighbouring Dublin or London, just ten or fifteen years ago. Belfast has changed, but one thing remains the same. Provided you are of sound enough mind to get past its notoriously thorough bouncers, The Empire Music Hall and Basement still pumps out booze-soaked blues on a Thursday night and into the wee hours of Friday morning like your wife’s been a mighty mean woman and you’ve been packing your bags to leave her.
Taking to the stage around 10:30pm after a dismal Manchester United display on the big screen, the jubilant blues of Chelsea FC are replaced by another kind of blues.
Chris and Co. launch into what is now a well polished set of classics and crossover hits. Tonight, he is joined by the charismatic frontman in harp player’s clothing, South African-born Cuan Boake, who, himself was frequently found by Rab McCullough’s side during his two decade-long stretch in the basement. On bass this evening is another fixture of the city’s music scene in Ben Flavelle-Cobain, who, as well an accomplished bass player in his own right, also released his outstanding electronic soul E.P. ‘electric//emotion’ in 2022 and fronted the short lived, exceedingly fun Treehome. Pedigree chums, indeed.
All the talent and experience on stage tonight shows. Before I know it I am transported back to the exact same spot ten years prior when the band rip through a stomping version of Statesboro Blues, one of the high points of Rab’s old set. Chris and his band bring an infectious, youthful energy to the hallowed boards, and in the time-honoured weekly tradition, punters begin to make their way to the front of the stage, drinks in hand, spilling here and there, dancing and singing and all but forgetting about work in the morning.
Taking to the stage around 10:30pm after a dismal Manchester United display on the big screen, the jubilant blues of Chelsea FC are replaced by another kind of blues
Chris Taplin has a voice that belies his thin frame. He looks like he could easily be in The Black Crowes, with a kind of Izzy Stradlin-cum-Chris Robinson disposition. He is no slouch up front and does an expert job in leading the band through the set. There is a loose feeling amongst the four of them tonight, with dazzling turns from Boake on the harmonica and Flavelle-Cobain keeping the low end jumpy; it is perhaps this approach that brings a fresh energy to the stage and is where Chris truly succeeds in making it his own.
In the blink of an eye it’s over. The band wrap up around 1am and the house lights come on. I am reliably informed that due to an ill timed excursion to chat shit in the smoking area I missed a beautiful version of The Letter, made famous by a young Alex Chilton but tonight performed in the style of a young Joe Cocker. Well, apparently so.
As we walked up the steps, out of the basement and into the Belfast night, I wished my friends a goodnight and took my leave for home. As the teaming rain soaked through my clothes I thought of Rab and all the great memories born in that downstairs bar over the years and all the new ones to be made to Chris Taplin’s soundtrack. But as the rain was now soaking through to skin, the music blasting from my earphones rang ever true -
‘Ain’t no love in the heart of the city. Ain’t no love in the heart of town.’
That makes it 16 issues for the Mull It Over newsletter. It’s hard to believe as I fully thought I would get bored a couple of weeks in. But great local music keeps popping up and brilliant nights like the one above are always around the corner. Have a dig through the previous editions to find a gig you might like or new band you might want to try out. Keep supporting our local arts, Northern Ireland is bouncing with talent right now; I’ll keep trying to bring it to you via this ego boosting format.
The Mull It Over Substack Playlist: