Cover photo © 2026 Peter Hurley

Rumor had it that the harmonica virtuoso of John Primer’s Real Deal Band, Steve Bell, was a man of few words. “He speaks through his instrument,” it was said. “If you want to know Steve, listen to him play.” Though there might be no finer endorsement of a musician’s genius for communicating through his musical instrument, Steve is no stranger to turning a fair phrase or two.

“I just have to be asked the right question,” he said with a wry smile. “You ask me; I’ll answer it.”

We met halfway between his place and mine at what used to be known as a fast-food Rock n’ Roll restaurant. Only now it stands as an oversized greenhouse mall with no conceptual connection to the burgers and fries mass manufactured in its kitchen. I asked if he was hungry as we sat down.

“I don’t eat this kind of food.”

What seemed to be a good idea for a meeting place close to Steve’s Blue Chicago gig last Friday night, since postponed, now seemed an awkward choice. While the place had no culinary attraction for either of us, it was relatively empty except for a string of Door Dash drivers lingering near their scooters. Turns out, this was the perfect quiet spot for us to chat.

Steve Bell was born in 1967 in Waukegan, IL to native Macon, Mississippian Carey Bell Harrington and Atlanta, Georgian Dorothy Ann Stroger. His father was, for a spell, one in the long line of great harmonica players for Muddy Waters that included the likes of Little Walter, Jr. Wells, Walter Horton and James Cotton. When older brother Lurrie gravitated to the guitar as a youngster, Carey handpicked Steve to follow in his footsteps.

“I wanted to play drums, wanted to be a drummer. But another brother, James, started messing around with them and he was good. I played too hard. So, they said, ‘No, no, no, no, Steve.’ Dad picked me to play harmonica,” he mused. “Look here, I carry this old picture of me on my phone. That’s me at the age of four.”

The photo, taken from high above that little boy sitting in a chair is, frankly, adorable. In it, Steve is clad in a striped jump suit holding, with both little hands, a harmonica almost bigger than the width of his shoulders.

“After my father showed me some stuff, he said, ‘Now you got to go out and learn the rest on your own.’”

“So, I went out on my own. Sometimes, you know, through records, sometimes at my dad’s rehearsals, and sometimes with Billy Branch. They’d sit and play, and I’d play along with them.”

A quick scroll on Steve’s phone revealed a stage shot of Carey, his mouth obscured by his hands cupping his harp, as pics of harp players invariably do. He had the same eyes as the man sitting across the table, drooping downward at the outside edges, sad and forlorn. Steve is the spitting image of his father Carey above the nose.

“See, I was destined to follow my dad,” Steve observed.

Carey Bell Harrington, born in 1936, loved the sax sound of Louis Jordan but his family couldn’t afford one. So, the boy taught himself to play harmonica and was proficient enough to join his pianist godfather Lovie Lee’s blues band at the age of 13. When Carey turned 20 in ‘56, Lee convinced him to move to Chicago with him. Carey quickly assimilated the Chicago style by learning directly from both Little Walter and Big Walter at the legendary Club Zanzibar. When interest in harp players waned in the late ‘50s and early 60s, stints as a bass player kept him working on the music scene. But by the time he married and had children, he returned full time to harmonica, leading on his debut album Carey Bell’s Blues Harp (Delmark DS 622 /1969.) The Muddy Waters period followed in early to mid ‘70s during Steve’s childhood, followed by a few years touring with Willie Dixon’s Chicago Blues All Stars.

“Yeah, man, these musicians were always over at the house, and I just naturally would play along. And no one ever said, ‘stay out the way, son;’ it was my way of growin’ up.”

Steve Bell continued to play harp and when guitarist John Primer left Magic Slim in the mid-‘90s to form his own band, he wanted a harp slinger.

“It was down at the Checkerboard where the dude at the door, Willie Sutton, was the one who recommended me to John,” explained Steve. “He asked, I said yes, and we been together ever since. And John became like a father figure to me after my dad died in 2007.”

These days, Steve Bell lives in Kosciusko, Mississippi with his wife to be close to two daughters and some grandchildren. The miles pile up, however, from traveling back and forth to Chicago and other locations to perform with the Real Deal Band.

“I take a bus or a train; it depends on the money I’ll earn when I get there. I missed last Friday night’s gig at Blue Chicago because the bus broke down in Atlanta, so that didn’t work out. But I was here for Saturday’s gig at Blue Chicago and Sunday’s in Aurora.”

Having to travel to Atlanta to get to Chicago is a brutal extra 200 hundred miles out of the way.

“Hey, that’s the musician’s life.” Steve said philosophically. “If you want to play music, that’s what you got to do.”

Depending on The Real Deal’s schedule, he often stays in the Windy City with a sister for weeks at a time and gets to visit with a 3rd daughter nearby.

“This time, though, I headed back in just one week. We’re heading out to Omaha and Lincoln, Nebraska before Christmas, then I go home until after New Years.”

Renowned in the blues world, John Primer’s Real Deal Band has the status and large following to play frequently in Chicago without exclusivity to any one club. On any given weekend night, a blues lover might find them performing at Rosa’s Lounge, Buddy Guy’s Legends, Blue Chicago, Hey Nonny in Arlington Heights and many other venues in surrounding and distant suburbs. They are in high demand in faraway places; Steve and the guys have made appearances at festivals, theaters and clubs all over the world. In early 2026, The Real Deal Band is slated for shows in the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium and Luxembourg in March then for a swing thorough Florida in April.

Bell’s harp sound is known for its muscularity and musicality in his ability to extend lines and sustain notes. He’s a powerhouse. We asked if he’s ever run out of gas during a particularly long passage.

“No, not ever. I can’t say why, but it’s never happened. I smoke cigarettes some, but I’m in good shape. I take vitamins. My dad smoked too, Pall Malls. But he never complained about losing his breath during a solo either.”

He’s a natural, he explained. He rarely practices and rarely thinks about his playing except while he’s on stage.

“I just learned from my dad, it came to me like… It just did. Phrasing is everything, isn’t it? See the sound I got? I used to play just like my dad – from note to note. I thought about it one day and I said, ‘Wait a minute, I got to try and find my own.’ So that’s what I did. I went and put something harder together. Put in some Billy Branch and put in some Sugar Blue in there too. I just flipped it. So, I’m like, ‘okay, I’m going this way.’ But I still got my dad in there every time. Yeah.”

The subject of Steve’s approach to playing continued. How is it that he not only feels the music so deeply but keeps his chops together without the behind-the-scenes rigor usually demanded to keep technically on top? One recalls Miles Davis’s insistence that his musicians respond to each other during performance and eschew practicing runs and stock phrases beforehand. Without quoting Davis, Bell ascribes to this notion as well.

“I practice on stage,” Steve said flatly. “Over-rehearsing would take the juice out of it. It’s not to say I haven’t learned my instrument. I spent years toiling at it, breaking through barriers of fatigue that are required to really know it. But at some point, it’s inside and getting it out on stage is the best way to go.”

Blues Music is a way of being, it’s deeply embedded, it does not take repetition to get to it. Put him on a stage with John Primer, his late cousin Eddy Clearwater, Buddy Guy or whoever it may be in the Blues pantheon, and he’ll channel his father, and more, without missing a beat.

Bell does talk through his instrument after all. And, at times, he plays beyond himself. (“Don’t play what’s there, play what’s not there:” Miles Davis.)

“Yeah, it happens all the time,” Steve explained with passion. “I’m like, man, how did that come out of me? Wow. All my tears came out just last Saturday and Sunday night; I hit some notes, man, like, damn – I guess it was my dad that came to me. It was his stuff—just hit me all at once. I’ll be on the stage, and the people won’t even know it. I get that feeling and cry when it comes. I’m trying to hold it in, but it just grabs me. I’ll tell John later, ‘I didn’t see that note coming tonight but it sounded so good.’”

Steve speaks fondly of his 30-year relationship with John Primer.

“John’s been a good guy to me, man. Good person, too. You know, he’s got a feeling, like, for a dad. Him and Lisa (John’s wife and manager), they’re a nice thing. Uh-huh. Now, every now and then he might cuss me out, but he does it as an elder would to someone he loves. I don’t mind,” he laughed. “At times, he’s right; I respect him for that.”

“John’s going strong, isn’t he? Oh, man, John is strong,” bragged Steve about his mentor. “He’s a champ; he never seems to age.”

Elder statesman John Primer does the driving on the long trips, an unusual role for a bandleader.

“But he wants it that way, and we go along with it,” said the sideman.

Instruments and amps accompany them. “We are the road crew.” Though, Steve’s array of instruments is relatively unburden-some space-wise, being a professional harp player is not without its physical drawbacks.

“My harps are expensive, man. They’re $60 apiece. But I have to keep up; because I play so hard, the reeds wear out. Every time I order a set, I’m spending $350. Heck, guitar strings are only ten bucks but I gotta go and replace my whole instrument,” he lamented.

Bell plays Hohner Special 20s and the discussion turned to a prospective sponsorship.

“I need to look into that,” he said matter-of-factly.

One doesn’t need convincing that a musical artist of Steve Bell’s caliber and renown is certainly deserving of it.

“See, people think it’s easy to play the harp, but it’s not. It’s hard. You got to know what you’re doing. And even though you must play a lot to learn it, you can’t get sick of it. See, you can learn the guitar and bass or drums quick, I think. You can learn that. But the harp… yeah. Without knowing all its ins-and-outs, you can’t. You just can’t,” he repeated for emphasis. “I told a guy the other day, I’m going to try the horn. The sax. I think I can play that; I’m going to try the horn now. I got the wind for it. I just got to get one.”

Steve’s appreciation for the high standards of musicianship on the Chicago blues scene is deep and wide. Having played throughout his childhood in the ‘70s with many of the greats in his own home, he now gravitates towards the inheritors of those greats. There’s John Primer, of course, and bandmates Melvin Smith on bass and Lenny Media on drums. (Steve Bell’s work with Primer and The Real Deal Band is best showcased on Hard Times {BHP JP2022-LP01}). But he plays with others that are the best of his own generation as well.

“Well, the Mike Wheeler Band really cooks, I like to sit in with them. Rico McFarland, Zora Young, too. I was on one of Sharon Lewis’s CDs. I like to play with my brothers Lurrie, James and Tyson. You know, we all recorded the Bell Dynasty album as a tribute to my Dad a couple years ago. (Lurrie Bell & the Bell Dynasty -Delmark DE 855.) I’d like to put us together again if we can. You name it, man, I like to play with everybody. Any time, any place.”

When asked if he had any notions of pursuing a life outside of that of a musician, Steve reflected on the path he took to get here and the path that lies before him.

“I’m locked into music. Yeah, it’s just locked in,” he said assuredly. “Sometimes I sit back and relax and be like, man, I feel like doing something else. But no, I’m with the music. This is my life. When I think about, I say, ‘I’m taking my dad with me all the way.’”