The joy of sax

When Jonny Whiteside tells you that his new monthly showcase called “Messaround,” at the Viva Cantina in Burbank, is strictly for personal whimsy, you have to question if that’s the whole story.

Whiteside, a longtime music critic (LA Weekly, Variety, Spin, Journal of Country Music, etc.,) and self-styled “old school punk rocker,” has done a lot not only to promote world-class honky-tonk, he wants to set the record straight on who and what have been the critical influences on American pop music since Elvis was in diapers.

His 1994 bio “Cry: the Johnnie Ray Story” was touted by New Yorker magazine as “an essential book on fame and pop culture” and “Ramblin’ Rose: the Life and Career of Rose Maddox” won the Assn. of Recorded Sound Collections award for Best Research in the Field of Recorded Country Music.

With the name Messaround, you sense what’s in store with an event that shares a title with one of Ray Charles’ big hits, penned by Ahmet Ertegun.

For the second edition of this showcase Sunday, Whiteside said he wanted to refocus the spotlight on some of the incredible musicians who have been around here for decades.

And every third Sunday of the month, he’s looking to harvest some of the musical bounty Los Angeles has to offer and rock the house — with no cover charge.

Anchored with a house band featuring honky-tonk guitarist Harry Orlove, session drummer David Raven and bassist Paul Marshall (formerly of the Strawberry Alarm Clock), the evening’s tone was set with the opening number, “Tonight I’m Drinking for Two.”

The Viva Cantina is a good ol’ neighborhood watering hole, and the crowd, which grew exponentially until every seat was filled and the bar was three-deep, was heavy on shellacked pompadours and tattoos of all stripes, as much as retired golfers in leisure pants.

So the crowd looked as comfortable as old bedroom slippers as it rocked to America’s original grass-roots music, from Bob Wills’ Texas swing to early rock ’n’ roll.

Patrons solemnly two-stepped in the aisles, hipsters looking like a cross between Roy Orbison and Phil Spector whooped and hollered, and everyone drank vast quantities of brew.

“This has got to be the weirdest, coolest crowd I’ve ever seen,” said Jennifer Harrison of Los Angeles.