December 4th – You work hard, get the practice
miles in and wait your opportunity to shine…
When most people think of Jimi Hendrix, and as is the way with
the junk-press we live under the things that come to mind are the chip-shop
quotes in the red-tops.
The Wild Man of Pop
and the photos that are more an advert for the photographer
than the subject; Hendrix smoking a
cheroot; Hendrix setting light to his guitar; Hendrix smashing his guitar
against his Marshall stack… They’re listed in hundreds and they are so
boring and, like a pot-boiler from Mills
& Boon, so bloody predictable. Even now, what, 43 years after his death
is it, there’s an element of surprise in the voices of people (who should know
better) as they introduce yet another playing of Little Wing. It’s as though they think it was a mental aberration
on Mr. Hendrix’s part that he should write a song not about shagging or drugs
or scramble-brained ideologies but something warm and human; something
lyrically beautiful; and Little Wing
is that. The landscape with figure he
conjures up, all laid against the haunting guitar riff that accompanies it is
nothing short of magical; but he’s not a one trick pony, unfortunately, like a
good many folk, their inner soul gets lost in the fog of snap headlines. You
all know one of my pet dislikes is our sleb-culture, the whole circus, but it’s
not necessarily the individuals involved (although it often is) it’s the whole
shit-slide and hoop-la that winds me up and we know, we all know that it’s
there because we perpetuate by tuning in, reading up and sharing the daily
pantomime of people who become famous for being infamous.
Kim Kardashian Has
Threesome’. Well
actually, no, she didn’t. Robert
Pattinson Forced Kristen Stewart to Take Lie-Detector Test’. Er…well
actually, no, he didn’t.
The stereotypical stories keep coming and we lap them up,
never thinking that, even though we may not be avid fans of the individual
concerned, nevertheless there are real people, and friends and family of these real
people, involved in this spiteful, bigoted and merciless trade. But remember
the words of the old newspaper hack;
Never let the truth
spoil a good story
That’s a truism as far as Mr. Hendrix is concerned. You only
have to listen to the track, Castles Made
of Sand off’f the Axis Bold As Love
album to see how wide of the mark the writers of junk-headlines are. A
beautifully told tale of disappointments for all but one of the subjects he
discusses with us, the track holds a short, underplayed guitar break that is
just perfect and I’m happy to post this without the lyrics because, contrary to
all those headlines we’ve all read, he was far from being, a mumbling, drugged-up, inarticulate rock musician so I know
you’ll hear every word.
Having cut his chops on the circuits and painstakingly built
up a fan-base of devoted followers, Tommy Bolin was obviously destined for
great things. His guitar playing was of such a calibre that he was figured a
shoo-in to take the place of Ritchie Blackmore when he left Deep Purple in 1975…and some would say
Mr. Bolin’s versions of Smoke on the Water
and Burn were delivered with more
drive and panache than Mr. Blackmore’s efforts and, having listened to both
renditions on various live recordings, I can see the reasoned arguments that
could be put forward to support this; not so many fireworks and not quite so
much of the look at me, I’m the guy this
band is supporting kind of thing that I found a little irksome with Mr.
Blackmore – as good a guitarist as he obviously is…not entering any further
into that arena, thank you very much, as I’m sure there’s someone out there
who’ll give me their opinion on just how big an arse I am for even suggesting
such a thing. Stints with The James Gang
(look them up on YouTube; excellent 70’s rock music with or without Mr.
Bolin…well they had Joe Walsh on guitar before Mr. Bolin so, what’s not like) his
obvious talent and unpretentious yet wizard guitar playing (and the nod to just
how good he was being given by one of the premier rock bands of the era) would
seem to make all set for a long and illustrious career. Yes, he dabbled in the
doubtful delicacies that come with fame and which capture the unwary or unwise
but, for the most part, he was just another hard partier.
He was beginning to get topside of his addictions but it was
prior to a tour supporting Jeff Beck (oh, yes, he was that good) that, with
some free time on his hands he had a relapse, taking far, far more than was
good for him…for anyone really. He managed to partially sort himself out just
before the tour started and opening for Jeff Beck on this day in 1976, Tommy
Bolin produced a storming set, posed for photos with Mr. Beck backstage and
returned to his hotel room with his girlfriend…I leave it to the words of the
official Tommy Bolin website to conclude this tale:
Late that night he passed out. Fearful
of adverse publicity no doctor was called and, as he seemed to recover, roadies
simply put him to bed. Around 08.00 on Saturday Dec 4 his girlfriend saw that
he was looking much worse and finally an ambulance was called - he was dead
before it arrived. Cause of death was multiple drug intoxication. He was 25.’
The number of times I’ve seen those dreadful, sleb words
written in explanation by people for the reason nothing was done, the chance that
the gravy-train might stop; Fearful of adverse publicity no doctor was
called…
And so castles made of
sand slip into the sea, eventually
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nbj5pM1HnAI
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