Exquisitely charismatic blues showman whose career extends seven decades, Bobby Rush recalls a 1951 gig in suburban Illinois with friends Howlin’ Wolf and J.B. Lenoir.: “We played behind a curtain because they wanted to hear our music but didn’t want to see our faces as Black men,” scoffs the 86-year-old singer. “I’m about the only guy who talks about what went on, because I’ve always been independent.”: Racism notwithstanding, the Louisianan says both autonomy and ambition led him to be crowned the King of the Chitlin Circuit. His relentless touring of Black and Black-friendly clubs brought him to Austin in the late Fifties and early Sixties.: “I remember the Victory Grill, yes,” he affirms of the historic venue still standing at 11th Street. “I played there. It wasn’t nothing but a local tavern, man. We also had another little place in Austin, a recreation center for teenagers because they couldn’t come to the juke joint at 9pm.: “So we had two audiences: played earlier for the teenagers, then at night for the adults.”: Underrepresented history also anchors the eight-year-running Eastside Kings Festival, which features veteran and emergent Black blues, R&B, and soul talent. For this year’s virtual adaptation, Dialtone Records prime mover Eddie Stout united two blue-chip backing bands, the Eastside Kings and Texas Horns, set them up at Stuart Sullivan’s Wire Recording, and ushered in a cavalcade of showstopping performers, most of them local: Soul Man Sam, Orange Jefferson, Lavelle White, Classie Ballou, Birdlegg, Tutu Jones, Andrea Dawson, and Mr. Bobby Rush himself, who drove all night from Mississippi to be there.: Rush, whose phenomenal new acoustic LP Rawer Than Raw focuses on the blues Delta’s deep song pool, performs on the broadcast both as a featured artist and alongside Crystal Thomas’ rich vocalizing. For a musician who made his name playing 200 shows a year, Monday’s ESK appearance marks a rare opportunity for live performance during the pandemic. So what does Bobby Rush do when he gets bored?: “What I do is grab my guitar and go in my bathroom or some room and set myself up,” he outlines. “I play and escape: through my music – write and read and study. I’ve always done that. When times get hard, I pick my guitar up, soothe myself, and uplift from the down valleys of whatever I’m going through.”