Regular readers of both this blog and my old MySpace pages will already know how I feel about the man and his legacy. Even though he was only with us for 27 years - and has been in that "other world" he prophetically sang about for 42 years - his legacy and influence are still very much a vibrant and vital part of my life.
This fact was driven home HARD to me yesterday evening. As I mentioned in my Turkey Day installment last week, I've much to be thankful for, and yesterday I again celebrated the fact the best way I knew how - by having a good old "power-play," just like I regularly did during the salad days. What's more, James Marshall figured quite prominently, and was actually the "accompaniment" for the bulk of my blitzkrieg. Although I trotted out my still-up-to-scratch chops frequently in public this past summer, none of those blows came within a country mile of the intensity of yesterday's exercise.
Quite simply, I "got back to where I once belonged." I'm talking the exact same mindset I had during my first ten years as a working musician; the music and what you can do with it is what's important, period. And there's zero time for any extraneous non-musical bullshit, to boot. As such, I unleashed a good ninety minutes' worth of sustained attack that easily qualifies as some of my best work to date. The audience who witnessed consisted of my Lady Sheila, and her two "kids" Buster and Tippy. All and sundry were totally blown away by it, much to my surprise and embarrassment.
Oh, they've heard me on a good tear many times since July, but nothing like yesterday's little banzai. Each tune I played was a "blank slate," even though I've done every one countless times previous, both in public and private. And it's this very approach that is the essential link between JMH and myself. Playing a given song differently each time was Jimi's stock-in-trade, and has long been my mindset as well. Although I began to drift away from the principle somewhat during the malaise of the last four years, I finally got my head together again yesterday - and the results were pretty damn sweet, let me tell you.
For her part, Sheila could only shake her head in amazement, smiling brilliantly. Even the kids knew something was up; both came for brief visits during my outburst, and both left with tails wagging furiously, despite all the incredible racket Uncle Chris was happily making. Like my late beloved Sam, Buster and Tippy are totally cool with the music, and both seem to understand the pleasure it generates. The pair were instantly in my lap as soon as I finished. Sheila understood it all perfectly of course, and I'm quite sure the return to my root-mindset will rub off on her in due course. Hell, it already has to a degree; I've noticed her starting to pick up on the basics of the concept in her own playing during the past several weeks, although at this stage it's more "happy accident," rather than a serious skill-set addition. Time and much practice will make it so though, methinks.
As for me, yesterday's blow is an excellent harbinger of things to come; the re-discovery of my youthful "extraneous bullshit attitude" will be applied to many other non-musical areas of my life in the weeks and months immediately ahead. More I will not say now, but rest assured y'all will be hearing some happy news in due time. I'd like to think that wherever Jimi is right now, he's also smiling brilliantly and giving me a solid thumbs-up; I certainly felt his strong presence with me yesterday, if nothing else.
Which ain't too bad a way to honor the Lad's Birthday, no?
More shortly Boys and Girls; in the meantime, please join me in celebrating Jimi's Birthday in proper style:
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