Slide Like Fire: Joanna Connor’s Road to Guitar Glory

Let’s get one thing out of the way: Joanna Connor is a guitar goddess. A slide guitar savage. A blues lifer who’s been tearing up stages longer than most viral sensations have been alive. And for reasons I still can’t wrap my head around, she’s somehow not a household name.

That needs to change.

Connor isn’t some new discovery. She’s been in the trenches since the '80s, grinding it out in Chicago clubs, burning through five-hour sets like it’s nothing, and leaving tourists and locals with their jaws on the floor. She’s the kind of player who makes other guitarists reconsider their life choices. And yet, for decades, she existed just under the surface — a legend to those who knew, a ghost to those who didn’t.

Born in Brooklyn, raised in Worcester, Massachusetts, Connor grew up on blues, jazz, and soul. Her mom’s record collection was her first mentor. Then came Buddy Guy. She saw him live at 10 years old and it lit the fuse. By 22, she packed up and moved to Chicago — not to chase fame, but to learn. To go to the source. And she didn’t dip a toe in — she cannonballed into the scene.

She jammed with the old guard: James Cotton, Junior Wells, Otis Rush. Cut her teeth with Dion Payton’s 43rd Street Blues Band at the Checkerboard Lounge. Then she struck out on her own, built her band, locked down a residency at Kingston Mines, and went to work. That’s where she lived for decades. Not the limelight. The club. Night after night, delivering the kind of raw, high-octane sets that make people forget they have to work the next morning.

And she didn’t just play. She commanded. Her guitar tone is all fat mids and teeth. Her slide playing? Surgical and chaotic at the same time — the kind of thing that sounds like it could unravel at any second but never does. She plays with the kind of confidence you only earn after thousands of hours on stage. And she plays it in standard tuning. With the slide on her pinky. That’s pure Chicago muscle.

But it wasn’t until a shaky phone video of her absolutely torching a solo went viral in the 2010s that most people outside of blues circles finally noticed. It was the clip — maybe you’ve seen it — where she’s wearing a purple dress, hair pulled back, and just annihilating a slide part while looking like she might go refill your drink afterward. That clip blew up. Millions of views. People finally started asking, “Who the hell is this?”

The answer: someone who’s been better than your favorite guitarist for a long time.

Joe Bonamassa saw the video. So did Slash. Vernon Reid. Suddenly, doors opened. Bonamassa reached out directly. Said he wanted to record with her. Help her finally get the kind of album that matched the energy of her live sets. Not the cleaned-up, watered-down studio polish — the real thing.

That album became 4801 South Indiana Avenue, a straight-up love letter to Chicago blues. They cut it live, fast, in a couple days. No nonsense. No gimmicks. Just Connor with a fire lit under her, backed by a murderer's row of players, going full force. It debuted at #1 on the Billboard Blues Chart. About damn time.

Then came Best of Me in 2023. Her fifteenth album, but her first in a long time made fully on her terms. It’s gritty, soulful, loud, tender — everything she’s about. She wrote it with her band. Brought in friends like Bonamassa and Jason Ricci. And she sounds not just confident, but free. Like someone who knows the world is finally paying attention, and plans to make every second count.

Gear-wise, she keeps it simple. Gibson Les Paul. Solid-state Orange Crush amp. A few pedals. No 30-button spaceship pedalboard. Just big tone and technique that hits like a freight train. She’s proof that gear doesn’t make the player — conviction does.

And that’s really the heart of it. Conviction. Connor’s music hits because it’s honest. She’s never tried to be trendy. She’s never chased a pop hit or softened the edges. She stuck to her lane — blues, funk, soul, rock — and trusted that the right people would find her.

It’s wild that it took a YouTube clip for the world to catch on. But maybe that’s the way it had to happen. Because now, she’s got the fire of a newcomer with the chops of a veteran. And when those two things collide? Look out.

So if you haven’t listened yet — do it. Not because she’s a woman who can “really play guitar,” but because she’s a world-class musician who’s finally getting the spotlight she’s always deserved. Joanna Connor isn’t just a great blues player. She’s one of the best guitarists alive. Period.

She’s not up-and-coming. She’s already here. And altars to the guitar goddess ought to be going up yesterday.