"Crossroads" has probably been seen by every electric guitarist who ever lived, every kind of bluesman, ... it's the ultimate rock fairy tale. Ralph Macchio takes his guitar to do battle with the Devil ... and wins.
Ry Cooder and Steve Vai are some of the best not-so-well-known guitarists as the Age of Pop descended and it doesn't need musicians much. My purpose isn't so much to trawl the past but rather keep it alive as sooner or later people will realize again music is not some egocentric no-talent narcissist but is actually a band. It will take a while but it will come.
Meanwhile, I'll go down the crossroads.
Blues ain't nothin' but a good man feeling bad
about the women he once was with - Ralph Seneca (Blind Dog Fulton)
You've got to take the music somewhere else
past where you found it - Blind Dog Fulton (Ralph Seneca)
Don't be getting yer panties in a bunch, Second Life. You're not who I mean. As time goes by, Second Life becomes a good option when it's difficult or impossible to put a band together. A very few and I won't name them don't need a band as what they do isn't egocentrism but exploration of new musical techniques.
This is some holy shit everything is destroyed depression and it really is ... but Crossroads moves that in a good direction as nothin' is ever as good as you want it be, bluesman. You know that - Scratch nee Legba. But I never signed any contract and there are no hellhounds. I'm also not a bluesman (larfs). For huge depression, this needs the full treatment: "Purple Rain" ... with huge loud.
And that only goes one place, the all-time, A number one, only one that works, cure for depression: shut up and play.
I'm sorry I didn't record it as I didn't have any plan for playing anything. I would pick up the guitar and see what happens. It's trippin', musical impressionism, call it what you like. Musical impressionism is exactly why I never cared about learning songs, even my own. But then the demons come and say you're old, you can't do it anymore. There's only one answer: do it or sit down and listen to them chewing your skull.
I wasn't even thinking about touching the piano but it looked like it needed some love and this is no kinda time to be refusing that. What do you know, you give love and you get love. Ain't that a shocker.
It felt very good and, yep, I can still do it. I apologize, Cat. I was so bummed that I thought playing would just be therapeutic. I should have recorded it as I didn't realize how therapeutic it would be.
Love, light and music, the only things that last forever.
Ry Cooder and Steve Vai are some of the best not-so-well-known guitarists as the Age of Pop descended and it doesn't need musicians much. My purpose isn't so much to trawl the past but rather keep it alive as sooner or later people will realize again music is not some egocentric no-talent narcissist but is actually a band. It will take a while but it will come.
Meanwhile, I'll go down the crossroads.
Blues ain't nothin' but a good man feeling bad
about the women he once was with - Ralph Seneca (Blind Dog Fulton)
You've got to take the music somewhere else
past where you found it - Blind Dog Fulton (Ralph Seneca)
Don't be getting yer panties in a bunch, Second Life. You're not who I mean. As time goes by, Second Life becomes a good option when it's difficult or impossible to put a band together. A very few and I won't name them don't need a band as what they do isn't egocentrism but exploration of new musical techniques.
This is some holy shit everything is destroyed depression and it really is ... but Crossroads moves that in a good direction as nothin' is ever as good as you want it be, bluesman. You know that - Scratch nee Legba. But I never signed any contract and there are no hellhounds. I'm also not a bluesman (larfs). For huge depression, this needs the full treatment: "Purple Rain" ... with huge loud.
And that only goes one place, the all-time, A number one, only one that works, cure for depression: shut up and play.
I'm sorry I didn't record it as I didn't have any plan for playing anything. I would pick up the guitar and see what happens. It's trippin', musical impressionism, call it what you like. Musical impressionism is exactly why I never cared about learning songs, even my own. But then the demons come and say you're old, you can't do it anymore. There's only one answer: do it or sit down and listen to them chewing your skull.
I wasn't even thinking about touching the piano but it looked like it needed some love and this is no kinda time to be refusing that. What do you know, you give love and you get love. Ain't that a shocker.
It felt very good and, yep, I can still do it. I apologize, Cat. I was so bummed that I thought playing would just be therapeutic. I should have recorded it as I didn't realize how therapeutic it would be.
Love, light and music, the only things that last forever.
2 comments:
Movies to absolutely ruin your buzz
PLATOON
but like a car crash it sucks you in
Isn't that a Vietnam flick? I'm pretty sure it is and those movies destroy me. That's not just a buzzkill but why are we all still alive, burning monks, My Lai, napalm children ... every horror in the Universe. "Apocalypse Now" is the only one that makes any sense to me insofar as it was completely deranged. Brilliant work.
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