Today, I was complaining to someone, that I was feeling so much like a slacker, because I dont update this blog as regularly as I should. That conversation lasted some time, and wound up at Warren Zevon. You remember him. He wrote Werewolves of London and Lawyers, Guns and Money. He died at fifty-six. Cancer. But, he left a legacy of some of the most innovative and unique songs anyone ever wrote. Dark? Mostly. They were memorable, though, because he wrote about the way things are, in the vernacular of his audience. Although it’s terribly inappropriate to say, one of my personal favorites is My Shit’s Fucked Up. Who on this planet has never felt this way? He touched us in ways that nobody else ever did, and we didnt even know it.
Roy Buchanan is another name you may not know. PBS did a program on him in 1971, called The Greatest Unknown Guitar Player in the World, and he was. To many people, he still is. His work influenced Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Nils Lofgren, and so many others. Jeff Beck dedicated his version of ‘Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers to Roy. Like a lot of other super talented people, Roy hit the skids with booze and heroin, which tore is life up. His shit was fucked up, too. A few weeks before his fiftieth birthday, Roy’s body was found, hanging by his shirt, in a Virginia jail cell.
You may know Eva Cassidy. Her voice and style were unmistakable, and to people who were aware of her, she was a wonder. Cancer also took her, at thirty-three. She never had a hit record. In fact, she was barely known at all, until after she was gone. Today, though, anyone who hears her sing is moved to say something like, Damn.
So, what’s my point? I dont know. Maybe it’s that we dont know how much time we have. Maybe it’s that we dont know who’s paying attention, and how we’re influencing people around us. It could be that I’m just rambling, and dont really have a point.
Rambling is just fine for a Vagabond. Right?