Pearls of wisdom. Words to

July 18, 2002

Pearls of wisdom. Words to live by. I notice that a lot of the older wiser musicians have distilled their philosophies of life down to catch phrases. They have discovered their own mantras through the musical school of hard knocks. Some are evangelical with their message but most save them for the approach of a young student. These crisp messages are delivered, sometimes, to deflect a long and boring conversation. If they engaged in conversation with every fresh faced follower they would have no time for anything else. They would also have to repeat themselves constantly and ...at length. Instead of rudely saying “figure it out yourself” they quickly explain that they have narrowed it down to one simple truth. I realized this was happening when Pat Steward and I were talking to Jimmy Vaughn at the Ottawa Bluesfest. He didn’t have much time. I was gushing about how great it was to hear him play and sing with so much of “that thing”. Pat had tried to let him know that we found him a great role model for musicians as he reminds us all that you have to relax into that pure source. He plays so far back on the beat and with such a spankingly confident and authentic tone. Every note has purpose. His band can run with the big dogs of the swinging groove pack. He said, “Play what you want to hear. You know I heard this once and it stuck with me. At first I didn’t get it but the more I thought about it the more I realized how well it works”. Its such a true notion when you think about how hard it is for some people to stop doing things because they think other people will like them for it. Its his “keep it real”. When he said this I felt like I’d got what I was looking for. You can learn most of what you need to know just by watching and listening but you feel like you got the spiritual souvenir of the event when you get given the pearl of wisdom.
Sharkskin once played with Bo Diddley and after a handful of drinks I went back to talk to Bo. I’d brought a Gretsch guitar for him to sign as he is one of the original kings of that instrument. He popularized his own groove. That’s pretty amazing. He explained that he never signs guitars anymore because people just flip them for cash but that he’d sign mine because he like my playing. I melted inside. He talked a bit about once being a cop and how great it was that he could have a gig like this at the age of seventy. It was then I got the pearl, “stay of drugs man and when everyone is handing you booze say NO WAY and grab yourself a bottle of water”. It was then I realized how many drinks I’d had before working up the nerve to walk up to him with the guitar. I decided it was best to say very little and just nod. Concentrating on my balance I thanked him and slipped off. Did he lay that particular nugget on me because he knew I was a little too glassy eyed? When I look back on all the times I’ve had a few minutes with a musical mentor it seems my memory condenses the experience down to these pearls. If someone were to consciously collect these I think a new musical Confucianism could develop. At the very least they could be sold as bumper stickers at your local music store. Then truckers and musicians, who have lived in symbiosis and in such similar realms, could become even more alike.

We're in West Branch Michigan tonight. La Hacienda Motel. What I know: the desk hostess has a beautiful new unicorn tattoo, their cat "Scooter" has had its tail lopped off by the snowblower just this last winter, and its AAA approved. Don't look for us there. We will be gone up the thumb of the state by the late morning.