Shuggie Otis in L.A.

Unearthing lost nuggets of pop music genius seems to be in vogue these days, whether it's the milking of major-label back catalogs for reissue cash or the relentless detective work of truly passionate audiophiles. Either way, there have certainly been some recent gems, among them David Byrne's rediscovery of California dreamer and psychedelic phenomenon Shuggie Otis.

Shuggie's 1974 classic Inspiration Information is not the first of Byrne's reintroductions, but it's certainly one of the best; a lush, loosely layered piece of California's past, back when the Golden State had flowers in its hair. Otis' voice is nearly angelic on the recording, his guitar-playing brightly flawless and the mood one of sunset strolls, moonlight beaches and open roads. It's addictive. It seems a fair bet to say that most of the audience who gathered at L.A.'s El Rey theater to see Shuggie play were there due to Luaka Bop's rerelease, but if they were looking for a triumphant return, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

After an eternity in technical-difficulty limbo, a thin, fragile-looking Shuggie (joined by a keyboardist, bassist, drummer and three-person horn section) launched into some passably entertaining bar-band blues. Otis stopped the song twice to tune and then wailed away with a proficiency that was remarkable only for its predictability. The rest of the band, most of them the sort of spot-on studio types who play with a tightness that rarely shows even a glimmer of heart, jammed dutifully behind the main man's noodling. Next up? A hollow-at-the-center Hendrix cover, then more bar-band blues.

Each number was followed by a period of manic guitar-tuning and knob-twiddling on Shuggie's part as his backup stood shuffling their feet in discomfort. When Otis finally did decide to play a cut from Inspiration Information, I immediately wished he hadn't. I had patiently withstood the onslaught of watered-down r&b with the dim hope of glimpsing the earlier, ethereal-voiced Shuggie. My love of the reissue was strong enough to keep me from turning on my heels and fleeing the theater, but the song that was once so soulful and heartfelt and true was now brutally butchered, empty of emotion, played by rote without even a hint of authentic feeling.

Is this what happens to artists when they get old? Do they prop up their former selves like saloon-town facades, hoping to fool us by hiding behind poor facsimiles of past passions? Granted, Shuggie hasn't had it easy. He's lived under the shadow of his father (legendary bandleader Johnny Otis) for most of his career, and his lucrative deal with Epic ended when he took far too long to record Inspiration Information.

Still, what happened to all that talent? It's the most painful thing in the world to witness someone searching for his soul and not finding it. What was most heartbreaking at the El Rey was the great expanse between how good Shuggie was and how bad he now is. The man seemed to know this himself. After the embarrassing attempt at his older psychedelic material he moved straight back into the blues, the kind that's less roadhouse than middle of the road. More blues, more blues, then a half-assed Stevie Wonder cover and then the blues again. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. The label was throwing a post-party with free drinks, but even that couldn't convince me to stay?probably the first time in my life that I've turned down free alcohol, but it just wasn't worth it. Too depressing. The worst of it wasn't the loss of Shuggie's talent or his sincerity or his California dream, it was his loss of faith in his music and in himself as well.