THE TRUTH TELLER "Blues is one thing; storytelling is another," ...

LLER "Blues is one thing; storytelling is another," Ray Schinnery attests before taking the stage during his regular gig at Terra Blues. The 65-year-old singer and guitarist then goes on to prove it by delivering a direct, intimate set that feels like private conversation. "Still Crazy," a heartache ballad of late-80s vintage, is understated and beautiful: "I've got to adjust/to think of me instead of us/love's a hard habit to break." Schinnery's voice is powerful-raspy at its edge but with a sweet, tender core-and he backs it with expressive guitar lines. Embodying the bluesman as truth-teller, he uses the song to express the uncertainty and confusion we've all felt when we haven't known what to do next.

Offstage, Schinnery (dressed casually in a t-shirt and "CD 101.9" baseball cap) is warm and gregarious but self-possessed. After 50 years as one of the city's best-kept musical secrets, he has no intention of playing by anyone else's rules.

"I don't like lying," he states, "and I cannot deal with ego. Ego would break me. I just want to be one of the best entertainers I can be."

Unlike some blues performers, Schinnery isn't afraid to mix idioms, and his repertoire includes everything from pop standards to Motown. Musical diversity is part of his personal history: Born in the Virgin Islands (where radio was overseen by the U.S. military), he moved to Harlem around age 12.

"In the Virgin Islands I heard country music, with the steel guitar. Most of the white guys in the Navy were from the South, and what they played on the radio was country and western. Then, in Harlem, there was a woman from South Carolina across the hall who had nine children. My mother held down four jobs to make ends meet, so Mrs. Garvin became like a surrogate mom to me. Through her, I first heard B.B. King in '51 or '52. That was my introduction to blues."

Making his public debut at a school talent show in 1954, Schinnery performed steadily until the early 70s, when he left the business to support his family through a job with the Health Department. He returned to music in 1987, and today, with only one child still at home, he's hopeful but realistic about the future.

"I'd like to do the lounge circuit and make a decent living. I'm not even thinking about becoming a star, I'm not expecting to make movies. I'm too old for that."

Mounting the stage for his next set, Schinnery testifies to the joy of performing ("The audience is my peace; without an audience, I'm useless") but is quick to assert his priorities when asked what makes it most worthwhile.

"When I get paid and go home to my little boy," he says without hesitation. "That's the god's honest truth."