Saturday, February 03, 2007

Its the usual time of thinking. After dinner, after the numbing lemon tea, after the last smoke, before getting to read -- to write whatever I can manage. Suppressing my fit of anger and unhappiness, the mindless wanderings of peaceful dreams, the women I love but never attained, those scraps of conversations replaying over the forgetting week, the resistance to restrain the belief of all existing nature. The reason to graduate and understand every difficult unattempted whim. The hopes and the fears.
I've affirmed quite clearly that an existentialist is a child of circumstances, as opposed to any noted stumbling attempts or battling philosophical situations.
Its all beautiful. The Neruda poems. The maps. Water in every literal form. The written word, even if it spells f-u-c-k. The songs and their music. This misunderstand able reason to swim through torrents of meaningless, beguiling time, and what for? But to see a smile beneath the endless sky and above the bed of sunflowers and seas. The line where only closed eyes can see. What a wonderful world. The charcoal sketch framed hung in front of me, the listless set of unread books around the room, the velvet-seeming curtains, the perfumes, the grief for Achilles' death, the dying winter outside the window, the chaos hidden in simple mysteries, the single-legged lamp with a twisted shade, the poster of Cobain fallen on a drum set, the empty bottles of wines, school-house photograph boasting forgotten pride and innocence. Neil Young and his "gone, gone, damage done". There is no hope for any of you, if you don't know what you will think next. Everyone needs a Virginia Woolf death once in a while, if not more, as I come to understand. Surely poetical, this darn ramblings. Play the blues now...
Play the blues the way Buddy Guy did, or does, your politics here is free to design. Thursday evening, the Old Man and I attended our first show together. In an extremely unfamiliar way it was damn cool.. For me to see Buddy Guy was this surrealists-effing dream. A legend that's cheated time, Guy remains the last original tribe of American blues artists today. Heard him so long through the speakers, I though he was immortal in pictures and CD covers with Johnson, Hooker, Waters and Dixon. But was overwhelmingly mistaken.
The genius could do anything with the guitar. It was a pity what I overheard, some miserable fucking hack -- some jackass, of course, while interviewing him must have made a mess by not knowing any of his music. Buddy Guy played it pretty cool, fearing New Delhi knows no blues (although it doesn't, it still does a bit). He made everyone miss Mustang Sally though, but gave the briefest introduction by paying a tribute to the blues other legends. A simple matter of intrigue what this man can do with aguitar (he played Hendrix, like Hendrix).
Watching him play a few songs, fate had me trickling some embarrassing tears, it was a dream realising to see him produce the finest blues music ever will be heard live again. Sure is a pity -- Clapton sucks now miserably, after selling his soul to the commercial devil on a effing highway in a metropolitan mall -- that there aren't many exploring this genre without not helping to die. Just to watch him convinced me, damn, 71, you're a fucking god-sent Mephistopheles with an electric guitar. All the beer in my mind, and all the traces of nicotine on my lips, alas, its time to be forced in having a haircut. But what could I do without you.


Blogger Ricercar said...

just noticed this! has it always been there? "A misanthropist who can’t do without people." ... lol ... thats cute!

8:20 AM, February 04, 2007  
Blogger Aaki said...

oh lord.. i remember msging you after the concert. but what did i say? :p so totally a blur. because that man wiped away my sanity for awhile, possibly with the towel he used to play his guitar for a song. it was mad, thats how beautiful he was that night. and you met him! sigh. the privilege some journalists have. effing lucky, thats what. :)

11:18 PM, February 04, 2007  
Blogger STICKY FINGERS said...

I was at the concert but I was sorely disappointed that he kept doing these tributes. Sad because he really didn't need to do that. He's considerably taller than those worthies and I longed to hear the stuff he did from the Chess records days and yes, Mustang Sally among others. Still, we should be grateful we saw him at all! You're dead right about Clapton. As compared to his last two decades worth of pop posturing, check out Rory Gallagher and Roy Buchanan (his contemporaries now alas in the Great Axe Heaven)for virtuosity, commitment and great chops! Burn a hole right through your heart...

7:49 AM, February 05, 2007  
Blogger whitelight said...

Was there for the show. The venue was small and the volume fucking loud. I was smashed to the ground. Even the mammoth speakers could not handle the chops. By the end if it, they were bleeding.

The crowd was fantastic. And we could buy alcohol at the venue!!

9:46 AM, February 05, 2007  
Blogger jerry said...

ricercar: its been around for a while. :) yep, feel like that most times.

aaki: naa, was actually six feet away, but yes you can say i met him. he's a genius, i'll never foreget the show.

sticky fingers: in restrospect, dude, i know what it feels like, the show wasnt all that i was expecting to hear. guess he did those tributes cause he felt he was playing to a musically dumb city. the bombay show, which my brother attended was much cooler. for me, just seeing him there on the stage made every penny-pound wise. clapton and rory are a disheartening, i cant stand clapton's singing anymore. Buddy Guy was just an experience, damn wish he played on his polka dotted guitar!

whitelight: stop fucking rubbing it in. here in delhi at Herbie Hancock show, some smart ass asked him to play Smoke on the Water. imagine if booze was asllowed to spill. it sucks to be here...!

4:26 PM, February 05, 2007  
Blogger tarika said...

A fucking god-sent mephistophilis with an electric guitar!! ha!
and ur right about him playing to a musically dumb audience! going for roger waters to bombay.. thats going to be satan rocking his serpentine guitar!yeah!;)

5:57 PM, February 05, 2007  

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