Or How a BackAss Country Boy Found and Learned to Love the Blues
This is a direct and carnal response to 
Winter 1969 was a time of tumult in my life and the country. Vietnam was boiling, there were over 300,000 troops on the ground and the draft was a cloud hanging over every young male.
The Hippy culture held sway on college campuses (where I was) but nobody knew it was just about ended, at least the summer of love portion of it. Music was in a stupendous change mode. The Who released Tommy, David Bowie had Space Oddity, Led Zepplin and The Band both released their second albums. The Beatles released their last album, Abbey Road and the Rolling Stones got dark and dirty with Let It Bleed. In early December 1969 the Rolling Stones were touring 'Let It Bleed' in Altamont, CA. They had hired the Hells Angles as security and 2 people were killed in the concert while the Stones played Sympathy For The Devil. They wouldn't play it again for 12 years. That incident completely ended the summer of love and the Woodstock vibe.
Somewhere around that time I bought "Saving Grace" by the Steve Miller Band in response to their earlier album that year Brave New World. Your Saving Grace was not up to that standard but there was a cover song buried that captured me completely. Motherless Children. Originally recorded by Blind Willie Johnson in 1927. I was utterly mesmerized.
Not long after there was a free concert in a dining hall on campus. I joined about 100 of my closest friends to hear Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. Two ancient black men (both in their 70s then) that carried their own equipment on stage, sat down and played the blues for 2 hours. I was hooked.
The Blues is the music of passion. It started as a black expression just after the Civil War and continues to evolve, but it never, ever looses it's edge. When times are tough and things go bad a blues singer will let you know.
You know I am currently a big fan of Beth Hart. I posted her video of "I'd Rather Go Blind" on the #weekend-engagement post. I'd like to let you hear how I first heard that song from Etta James in 1975.
Believe it or not, I could go on. I'm going to leave you and me with a very young Beth Hart as she absolutely attacks "Am I the One". Passion, unbridled passion.
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