Dressed in bluejeans, sporting a bushy goatee and a white ponytail running down the back of his blue work shirt, Ellis sauntered on stage and, seated on a short stool surrounded by six monitors, lit into a 95-minute, one-man-band show. 

It was Feb. 18 at Columbus, Ohio’s, Woodlands Tavern and Ellis, returning to the venue for the first time since 2023 and accompanying himself on acoustic guitar, resonator and mandolin, was on the road to promote his second consecutive solo-acoustic LP, Labor of Love. While playing a significant chunk of the LP, he also revisited the back pages of his songbook to strip down such full-band numbers as “A Quitter Never Wins,” which has been recorded by everyone from Jonny Lang to John Mayall. 

The format afforded Ellis the opportunity to tell some wonderful stories about meeting the kind B.B. King as a teen; chickening out on his chance to meet the intimidating Howlin’ Wolf in favor of a grabbing a soda; learning at the feet of Buddy Guy, Junior Wells, Koko Taylor, Otis Rush and Albert Collins as a young Chicago transplant; and befriending fellow Georgians the Allman Brothers, whose Gregg Allman always called the musician Ellis Tinsley. 

“I never corrected him,” Tinsley Ellis said with a chuckle. 

Able to make a six-string acoustic guitar sound as rich as a 12-string, Ellis used his mic’d left boot to add percussion to “Pawn Broker.” The guitar’s body was the proverbial drum kit on “Cut You A-Loose,” while “Hell or High Water” showcased Ellis’ stunning ability to solo over his rhythm patterns. 

As the evening unfolded and Ellis switched to his 1937 National resonator guitar, he showed off his ability to simultaneously flat- and fingerpick and play slide notes and chords in striking unison. These qualities made “Little Red Rooster,” “Hoodoo Woman” and “Devil in the Room” (on resonator) and “Too Broke” and “Grown Ass Man” (on six-string) sparkle and sting. 

Having focused mostly on original material all night, Ellis returned the blues’ foundation near the show’s end with authentic reimaginings of Robert Johnson’s “Love in Vain” and Son House’s “Death Letter” delivered from the early-20th-century Delta to early-21st-century Ohio on resonator and in a voice that recalled the timbre of Dave Mason. 

And when Ellis picked up his mandolin and offered the bright, major chords of “Sad Sad Song,” he expertly melded the sadness and joy of the blues to end the night with a passel of perfect notes. As he left the stage, Ellis said he hope it wouldn’t be three more years until he’s invited back to Woodlands and the audience of a few dozen agreed wholeheartedly.