Tuesday 11/17

Tuesday 11/17

Was reading the new Rolling Stone magazine on the 25th anniversary of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame concerts. Reminded of some of the music I've both enjoyed and heard live.

1980 Tucson Racquet Club, poolside. B.B. King. This was the year I took "off" after quitting the Univ. of Arizona. I spent a lot of time at the Racquet Club and one summer night, there was the great man himself. I was about 50 ft away up on the snack bar patio. Magical.

[Sidenote: Had lunch on this patio with Ross what's-his-name who was in a popular Western series on TV, two guys, lots of science, can't remember the name. Nice guy. We talked food, which relaxed him from being the "star".)

1970s or 80s Tucson. Pinetop Perkins and the Muddy Waters Band. There was a dive bar I used to frequent. One long half was bar, the other long half was music and dancing. And there was Pinetop Perkins, somewhere in his 70s then (he's still performing now in his 90s) and members of the Muddy Waters Band, rolling out that barrelhouse piano, in that small smoky sweaty bar, people milling and drinking and yelling and dancing. Perfect.

1970s UofA campus Tucson. Papa John Creach. I'd been a fan of his since I heard his electrifying fiddle playing backup for the Jefferson Airplane. A concert hall was not the best venue for him -- no dancing etc -- but the sound was glorious.

1990s 45 Cherry, Asheville. Koko Taylor. An ambitious blues bar, sadly defunct. I was dating Andy, a younger man who frequented DBN and was smitten with me. He was a music radio reporter and took me along to hear the great blues shouter. Loved her music and was already a fan, but she's so short (and the floor so flat) I could only see the top of her hair. Another time at this same bar, I went with Andy to hear Willie "The Lion" Smith, another great blues guy. Fun times.

If we go way way back, to the early 1960s, I saw Jimmy Reed play in Houston. He was so stoned, they had to tie him to the chair so he wouldn't fall out. But he gave a great performance. One of the few Delta Blues guys I like (I like Chicago blues better).

Also in Houston at that time, Etta James was the house singer at a bar and she and I shared a fondness for Sherman's cigarettes (she liked the blue paper ones). That's when I was involved with the drug dealer and was doing a lot of speed (also another story).

Memories can be fun sometimes. Now, back to the Rolling Stone.