what does a musician know while "playing"?
this morning i looked into the archives of the blog
known by everyone who matters as
PHILOSOPHICAL INVESTIGATOR
http://billborneman.blogspot.com/
back to the beginnings of that blog
two years ago
and i recollected some thoughts about
the guitarist derek bailey (d. christmas day 2005)
of course i went to google
and accessed some cyberclips
of derek performing and i thought about him
these thoughts followed me to my studio
where as soon as i took my guitar in hand
i began playing with verve and nerve
hacking at the strings
sliding my pick up and down the bass strings
using a rapid action to arrive at a vibrating sound
on one note a sound that also possessed the quality
of plastic scratching steel
and an array of harmonics and percussive sounds
and extended notes bending everything
which began to sound like coherence
immediately attacked with incoherence
and when i had finished i knew
that i had paid due homage to the spirit
of the great exploration guitarists
but it was but a random moment of
articulated noises and notes
and i am no better for having done that
(except perhaps for the thought that occured
in the midst of sonic mayhem
that i will perform this and a few other things
soon in a chapel setting)
but then i played a heavily corrupted
version of DARCY FARROW
a song by steve gillette
and i applied some of the technique
or lack thereof to this song and
i was delighted
then i switched guitars and sought out
some of the sounds of john fahey once again
as i have been doing for the past 30 yrs or more
i then played an extended version of a very
clearly structured compostion that is known in
my mind as FOR SALLY
a piece possessed of 3 distinct sonorities
played four times in consistent order
and embellished each time
and i finished out my playroom activities
with BIG ROCK CANDY MOUNTAIN
a ballade of hobo heaven
for all this i know only that i can go to a place
and allow my mind and my hands to create sound
on a feminine shaped box with six strings over a hole
and it is enough
amid everything else that happens on the planet today
i have made my say
and it is enough
that's all i know
the epistemological questions involving music
are awaiting some treatment
treat those questions with love and a certain ruthlessness
it is interesting to consider ones mind
what is tracing through the incorruptible substance
while one seeks to give some order to sound
the world is humming with it
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5 comments:
have i heard
for sally
yet?
is that the instrumental piece
you came up with when you were here?
it's neat to have
a run down of your music session
play that funky music
white boy
twang those strings
i think maybe it's time for me
to pick up a guitar or a banjo
either that or a book
i'll have to decide
i love free weekends
speaking of hobos
reminds me of a song i want to learn
hobos in the roundhouse
i thought i had heard it
on prairie home companion
but john tells me we heard it
at the highway 61 folks festival
in mahtowa when we played
in the song contest there in 2005
i think he is right
i just googled it and found
that it is by Bill Isles
whom i do remember hearing live
with his wife Kate
at one of those folk festivals
there is a recording of the song
at www.billisles.com
which is good because i only remembered
a small fragment of the tune
at the website that pointed me
to bill isles i read the following
which i remember being the way
bill introduced the song:
Bill explains the song, "My grandfather, August, was a railroad roundhouse mechanic in Virginia, Minnesota. He risked his job during the depression by letting hobos sleep indoors while he was on the midnight shift." The heart of the song is when August has a moment of doubt and Bill sings, "I asked my Savior, 'What should I do? If I'm caught helping hobos my job could be through.' And I heard my answer, so clear and so bright, 'Are my hobos sleeping in your roundhouse tonight?'"
i guess that decides it for me
it's going to be a guitar
instead of a book
nope you ain't heard none o
for sally yet chaparral
i think i've only played for boz and bridget
and i played part of it once for mass
someday
collegeville station was well nigh empty tonite
even the hoboes or their ghosts i don't know left early
one drunk co-ed came in she stayed for about three songs
at one point she just sat right up and looked at us with a look of disbelief then she stood and got her balance and turned and swaggered with a definite lean to the left away
ah well
i'm thinkin webcasts
Have a very happy and blessed Thanksgiving!
Skittles, The Huntress
Sorry! That holiday greeting was from me.
WW
right back at ya
ww
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