We had an
experience not dissimilar to what Phil Lesh described in his own life- “being
the only guy in a theater full of screaming chicks”. Outside on the sidewalk
afterword, girls were graffiti-ing the building with lines like “I Love Paul!” or
“Sally Loves John!” and the like. I guess I knew then there was something to it
and music would be what I’d most like to do with my life- being a kicker for
the Forty-Niners might have been fine, but then, I turned out to be less suited
to football than baseball in the end.
The Beatles music
really changed the way I looked at things. All of a sudden, sitting there with
my ukulele, I felt dissapointed. The heck with this ukulele! I thought, I want
an electric guitar! You couldn’t rock
out with a ukulele- and I’m sorry, but for all those folks who came later that
took an interest in it, including George, the irony for me is that it had been
George Harrison inspired me most to begin this campaign on my parents to get one.
All of a sudden,
the terrible black and white world transformed into a technicolor one. History
for me begins with the Beatles, not
the Oswald murder. Music seems to begin there as well, (even if it didn’t) although
I do remember listening to my babysitter’s transistor radio and bands like the
Supremes, and songs like The Leader of
the Pack and of course, Richie Valens’ La
Bamba. But it didn’t have the effect, none of it did, like the Beatles.
Soon I was learning drum parts for all the songs and bopping my head like Ringo
did. Small compensation for a person who was born to play on strings!
Reprinted from No Backstage Passes In Heaven (An Autobiographical Memoir)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Le Surrealist apprécie vos pensées, comments et suggestions. Continuez-les venir ! Doigts Heureux !