Jim White photo
Wendell, left, and Sherman Holmes drive home a musical point last night.

The Holmes Brothers offered up some of their unique music last night at the Club Cafe on the South Side, and I was there to enjoy the benefits.

The Brothers, plus drummer Popsy Dixon, never disappoint, but last night it felt like they were taking their spiritual harmonies and worldly guitar licks to a higher plane. I don't think it was just my bourbon.

They opened with a pair of gospel songs, laying their voices on unearthly harmonies, and laying their hands on earthly guitars. It was enough to make an old heathen like myself almost rapturous.

Jim White photo
Popsy Dixon, whose falsettos take you to another place.

I didn't take any notes on song titles, so I have mostly my memory to rely on. They mixed tough old blues like "Big Boss Man" with rock classics like "Bad Moon Rising" and "Whole Lotta Shakin' Going On." They added fuel with cuts from recent albums, and I actually recognized one whimsical burner from their most recent album, "State of Grace," titled "Gasoline Drawers."

Their vocals are a direct descendant of the old churchly "call and response," in which they play off each other and make each song sound like a spontaneous delight.

I'm an easy target for the falsetto -- it always seems to stir primeval feelings -- and Popsy Dixon's other-worldy wailing makes me feel like I'm in the presence of a thousand-year-old soul.

I'm always amazed by the talents of musicians like these, who capture little emotional slices of life in song and make you feel like you're sharing an intimate relationship with them when you hear the music.

Simple musical notes strung together evoke the most mysterious of feelings, find out where you live, and touch you there. It's always an inadequate process to try and explain that emotional pain and pleasure in words.

Jim White photo
Wendel Holmes, singing in tongues.

The Holmes Brothers are among the best at what they do -- turning song into feelings that send us out into the night in touch with our soul.

Maybe that's all a little heavy. Maybe it just feels good, and that's all we can ask.

One last thought on how easy it is to make a fool of yourself.

Just before last night's show began, I decided that a visit to the men's room was in order. Apparently, Wendell and Sherman Holmes had the same feeling. And since the Club Cafe is rather small, we wound up sharing the same space.

It's always awkward talking to a stranger in the bathroom (What's a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?), but these guys were the stars, so I had to say something. Does a real journalist do interviews in the men's room?

Cleverly, I offered something like: "I didn't think the stars of the show would have to share this."

A few hearty chuckles from one or the other Holmes, and they left for the stage, leaving me holding the knowledge that sometimes it's better to hold your tongue, as well.

First Published: February 23, 2007, 5:00 a.m.