Every day, I feel the tears that you weep
Looking out of my lonely gloom, day after day
Bring it home, baby, make it soon
I give my love to you...Badfinger
I play guitar. Well, to be honest I plunk and peck and at
times put a tune together that actually is recognizable if you heard it you,
might say “oh yeah I know what you’re playing." I play piano but not as well as I
play guitar. My right hand knows what it’s doing for the most part when it
comes to hunting the notes. But, the left hesitates in finding the chords. Anyway,
I’m not a world class musician and I don’t play often where anybody else can
hear me. But, like most people my life
has been defined by the music I grew up with. I always say the Eagles wrote the
soundtrack of my youth. But, as a child
my mother sang country music all over the house. Now, by country I don’t mean
Florida-Georgia Line silliness or the other pop country you hear today. I mean
actual Country Western. George Jones and Loretta Lynn and Hank Williams and
Patsy Cline and Porter Wagner and Buck Owens. Kitty Wells and Tammy
Wynette. My step father had an old
Martian Guitar and he would wap out the rhythm.
I hated it. No, really I did. I don’t now. Now it’s nostalgic to me. Now, I
have learned to appreciate Patsy Cline and understand that Hank Williams was an
absolute poet and genius. I love Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings and Emmylou
Harris and Dolly Parton. But, not then. That was the music of my parents. The
music of dances on Saturday nights when I would be going to my Grandparents
house because I sure didn’t want to attend the square dance up on the mountain
in Boaz or Albertville, Alabama or the fairgrounds in Attalla. But, I bet ya I
can ( I won’t, but I can) sing and play or chord almost any country song you
can name from about 1962 until 1970 or so. George Jones, Hank Williams, Conway
Twitty, Tammy Wynette. It was in my blood but it wasn’t my music. My music was
on late at night when I would have my radio on in my room and WLS out of
Chicago would come pouring out of the magic box. James Taylor and Alice Cooper.
BadFinger and Areosmith. Rolling Stones and the Beatles. During the day the
Mighty 690 in Birmingham.
Later as I came to my teens in the 70’s I would gravitate to
Foghat and Linda Ronstadt. Nazareth and Jackson Browne. The 70’s had a great
mix of Motown and Southern California sound on the same stations. I know people
my age can remember a station in Birmingham, Alabama. I can’t remember the call
letters now but I can just name the format and people will say “Oh Yeah, the
greatest rock station ever!” They played Album Rock! The complete album of your
favorite band and they would take request throughout the week. The DJ would
come on in that smooth late night voice and call out the order like a waiter.
Tonight we have the latest FleetwoodMac followed by Houses of the Holy and the new Nazareth. Some SuperTramp and Wet
Willie. We have some ZZ Top and Jackson Browne and later some Dead and deep
cuts from the Stones. We have some Ronstadt and Jackson Browne. Followed by an order of Yes and some
Foghat Also Rumors and Hair of the Dog. Some more Black Sabbath and
Zeppelin.
These were full uncut and no commercial complete albums and
it went on all night long. That little station in Birmingham was even written
up in The Rolling Stone! Which in those days was The source for all things cool
and happening in music and cool entertainment. Doctor Hook even sang “Cover of
the Rolling Stone” as a humorous homage to it.
I grew up and as I got a little older I discovered KISS and
loved Hair of the Dog by Nazareth. I heard the Eagles and felt I had never heard
better harmonies and the songs they sang seemed to be exactly what I was
feeling. I discovered Pony Millers and Marijuana and the boy finds girl, girl
finds other guy, boy drowns in beery smoky rock and roll night full of angst. But,
hey it was crazy times and I was a little lost sheep to say the least. But,
Eagles and Linda Ronstadt and Foghat understood. I also discovered southern
rock of course. Marshall Tucker and Molly Hatchett and Wet Willie and The
Outlaws. But, the greatest Southern Rock band of them all was and is and will
always be Lynyrd Skynyrd. Simple Man and Freebird. I’ve heard Sweet Home
Alabama so much over the years that I really get tired of hearing it. But, I
tap my feet and sing along every time it comes on anywhere in my hearing. I
hate/love that song.
I also started to really get into Willy Nelson and Waylon
Jennings and Leon Russell. Jessie Coulter and Emmylou Harris and Linda
Ronstadt.
But, music is a funny thing with me as I get older. I don’t
listen to it constantly any more. I find my self bored if I am sitting around
and just have a bunch of songs playing. I enjoy playing guitar or piano or
trying to play. But, just to sit around and listen? Not so much. But, every
once in a while it hits me. I put in some Queen or Styx and crank it up. I’m
taken back to my youth. I can almost reach up and brush the hair out of my eyes
again. I can almost see that certain girl walking down a hot paved road in
rural Alabama wearing a halter top and shorts and my mind goes back and sixty
years become 16 again. That’s the power of music. That’s the power of Rock and
Roll.
Come back baby
Rock 'n Roll never forgets
Said you can come back baby
Rock 'n Roll never forgets...Bob Seger
Peace.
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