Watching a program oñ 60’s musician Jimi Hendrix on SBS and remembering going to his very loud live concert in Chesterfield, UK.
He played his electric guitar with his teeth, behind his head and in ways never seen before. Much of it was wasted because the audience screaming was totally deafening.
Since my Dad was playing his own guitar steel/Hawaiian style across his knees to accompany his favourite country songs at the time Jimi’s innovative guutar playing left me cold. To be honest I thought his performance was stupid, obviously stoned and was glad when all the noise finished!
I was about 17 and pretty naive, worked as a female white Public Servant in a regional UK tax office. Very straight and couldn’t be more opposite than this cool black musician. The whole concert opened my mind to live music, for Jimi was only one act on the bill.
He looked so ill, his dark skin stretched yellow across his cheekbones. I remember that so clearly.
It was a life-changing experience but seeing him now I think what a waste that the drugs ruled him and his performance and what could he have been with that talent and his cool sense of humour.
He died soon after. Drugs related.
Watching the programme and all those obviously stoned people with their jerky movements on lsd, acid, whatever, I think here I am, taking stuff to stop me shaking at the opposite end of the spectrum. Ironically medical marijuana is said to be coming an answer to all mý symptoms. But I still cant play a guitar properly.
He was beautiful, but by the time I saw him he was totally wasted in all ways. I can only play chords A, D and E but I am still here. Ive had my few minutes of fame on tv and radio, but nobody is going to make a tv programme about me, and that is okay.
Hawaiian guitar music still soothes my soul and Jimi Hendrix doing his improvisations still grates on my nerves. A lot of music has filled my life and told my story.
Then there were the Beatles. Yes Ive still got the scrapbook.