JOHNNY WINTER Albino blues brothers Johnny and Edgar Winter made a lot of noise in the 1970s. Edgar is still remembered for boomer radio staples “Free Ride” and “Frankenstein,” but his guitar-slinging sibling Johnny has had the staying power. In his roller-coaster career, he’s played with his idols Willie Dixon and Muddy Waters, while having songs penned for him by luminaries like John Lennon and Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. Once pegged to pick up Jimi Hendrix’s psych-blues mantle, Winter’s never been as acid infused as the Voodoo Chile. Instead, his spirit stays close to the boozy brawling Texas barrooms where he honed his chops, and his high, exquisite slide is still raw, ragged and funky — more bonded bourbon than, say, the sweet tea of Derek Trucks. The big miracle is that this living legend is, well, living. Fucked up on drugs and fucked over by a Machiavellian manager, Winter is clean today but frail. When Johnny Guitar hobbles onstage, broken in body, to play seated, the music still soars, but it reminds us that even indestructible rockers like Johnny Winter have a due date. Or as Dee Dee Ramone’s headstone says: “O.K... I gotta go now.” With Sonny Moorman. $26. July 13, 8 p.m. Neighborhood Theatre.