In some ways, though, it is the “boiling Memphis guitar” of Leroy Martin that separates the Soul Survivors from the city’s straight blues scene. Martin’s approach is largely chord-based, full of the kind of slippery doublestops that are a hallmark of the lost art of soul guitar. Unlike most straight blues guitar playing, soul guitar rarely draws attention to itself, and Leroy is certainly of that school. With elements reminiscent of Curtis Mayfield and Cornell Dupree, Martin’s dry, clean tone and slinky feel set him apart from the pentatonic tried-and-trues so often associated with the blues. When he does go for single-string lead work, he mixes major and minor tonalities, much like B.B. King. His runs teeter just on the edge of the pocket, giving the whole groove a rough-around-the-edges quality that only enhances the funkiness of it all. And whether he’s using his mid-60s Epiphone Casino, or his 90s Gibson Blues Hawk, his sound is clean, clear, and classic— not as biting or aggressive as Steve Cropper, not as jazzy as Teenie Hodges. Martin’s style is truly Memphis, but also distinctly his own.

What makes Memphis special has always been equal parts great art and street hustle; musicians drift in and out of the clubs, covering any style that might earn them some tips, all playing with each other in various shifting lineups. Few ever become known outside the city, but players from Memphis don’t really have to go out on the road to find an audience. The audience will come to Memphis to find them.

A lucky few discover the Memphis Soul Survivors. While visitors not used to true juke joint culture may at first find Wild Bill’s a little too real, the spirit of the place is as infectious as the music itself. It’s why the crowds keep coming—not just to this tiny bar, but to Memphis, and to soul itself. It is a music that has risen up from the South’s hard times and churches to find its home and sound in the city. It is a story told night after night by the crowd at Wild Bill’s—black and white, rich and poor, from all over the city, all over the world—shouting, laughing, moving, floating on the music, dancing to one of the greatest bands they have ever heard, whose names they will probably never know.