A performance by blues legend Jody Williams packed out Perth Blues Club on Tuesday night. The audience was not disappointed as Williams treated them to an hour of strong, twangy blues, complete with gravel-y vocals and playful solos.

After a set by local boy blues-genius Trevor Jalla, Williams came on to the stage with the cheeky little grin and easy confidence of a bona fide American bluesman - he knew where he was, what he was doing, the crowd was in his hand right from the start - and you could tell he was loving it.

Until recently, Williams had a 30-year hiatus from music, putting his guitar under his bed at one point in the 60s after becoming discouraged about the music industry, and not dragging it back out and dusting it off until 2002. He's back on stage now, and this night, was in his element.

Williams and his band, Tim Neal (keyboards), Dean Addison (bass) and Mark Grunden (drums), swung straight into action with the fan favourite Lucky Lou. The traditional blues sound was reminiscent of a riverboat cruise through the Mississippi Delta, with the band providing easy, casual backing and with Williams twanging away at his guitar, delving occasionally into the raspy depths of his voice.

After a cheeky plug for his latest CD, Williams was straight into his next song, Lifelong lover. The conversational style of his singing made his song feel like the best chat you could have, and when he sung the line "I've been loving all my life", the twinkle in his eye told us there was little doubt he had.

Williams felt the next song needed a bit of clarification, explaining to the audience that the title was a phrase that meant the same in every country, though in some languages it may need a few more words to get the meaning across.

"But because I speak English, I've got it down to five words," Jody grinned. "And those are - ‘wham, bam, thank you ma'am'."

"In whatever language it has the same meaning. You just say that, and eyebrows go up."

One female audience member in a playful mood had a few alternate suggestions, and Williams zeroed in on her, drawing claps and laughs from the audience with his suggestion: "You and me, between the sheets - I'd put my guitar aside for that."

The fun, upbeat blues tune, containing Williams' love advice (when you're young and speedy, don't get into trouble, and always thank the ladies) had people getting up to dance, and soon there was a crowd at the front grooving to Williams' tunes.

The band zipped through a few more tunes, ranging from easy, hearty twelve-bar blues songs, to moody tales of heartbreak, with the blues organ sound of the keyboards fleshing out the atmosphere. William's easy, unrehearsed banter between each song made the performance really personal.

He didn't need fancy lighting and a team of dancers to keep all eyes on the stage. His husky voice, secretive smile and crafty guitar notes kept the audience transfixed.

I caught up with Williams after the performance, and found out that even though during his hiatus he didn't intend on picking up a guitar ever again, he's loving being back on stage.

"I'm having a ball," he said "At this point in my life I feel like I should be enjoying myself. If I can't enjoy it, I might as well leave it alone. So people see me enjoying myself, they join in with me, and they enjoy it too."

Although being a bluesman takes up a lot of time, Williams is trained as an electrical engineer, and still works part-time.

"Most people don't know what else I do," he said. "And you see me in uniform, with a bullet-proof vest on, and a big 357 Magnum pistol on my hip. I'm an ATM technician - I fix the money machines."

Williams told me about visiting the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry recently where there was an exhibit of blues, and standing in front of his own display.

"It bought back lots of memories for me, just standing in front of the exhibit," he said. "I never expected to be in a museum."

"I took my grandson and my son over to the museum. So when I came home that evening, my son - and this is the first time someone asked me this - he said, ‘Daddy, are you someone famous or important?'... and I thought about it and said ‘I am famous and important to some people, but to you I'm just dear old Dad'."

At the Perth Blues Club that night, Williams was definitely famous and important. He's the kind of guy that nothing can bother. He knows who he is, he loves to play, and it's clear that if a good time is being had by Williams, a good time can be had by all.