I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my next door neighbor, Cheryl. She was 3 or 4 years ahead of me in school and even though I was a punk kid to her we shared a special connection; we both played the French horn. We also shared a huge curiosity for the changes starting to take place in pop music. I spent many wonderful hours in her home listening to vinyl records on her portable record player.
Cheryl had a friend in England that would send her the latest UK releases. Because of her I was one of the first in the US to Meet the Beatles. She was a catalyst to discovery for me and without her influences I probably never would have explored some of the musical paths I chose to.
Our claim to fame in the Northwest at the time was The Ventures (from Tacoma and a totally awesome instrumental guitar band), and we had our share of local talent like Paul Revere and the Raiders, The Sonics, and The Whalers. We listened to their songs on KJR AM and live at local dance clubs like the Spanish Castle and The Target Ballroom. Radio in those days was a pretty sanitized medium.
Then came the first wave of the Brits. It was innocent enough at first with bigger hair, frilly shirts, boots and bell bottoms. The wave didn’t stop, a tipping point happened, and a few short years later with more attitude comes the likes of Jimi “I’m gonna wave my Freak Flag high” Hendrix…
Kisses for Jimi, The Jimi Hendrix Memorial... Renton, Washington
Jimi showed up on the Third Rock from the Sun in a Purple Haze and life would never be the same again.
I’ll never forget as long as I live. I can see the front room in our old house, the carpet, the drapes on the window, the RCA Victor (super huge piece of furniture) radio/record player console…
I put Purple Haze on rather loudly and my Dad totally freaked. (Understand he’s a card carrying union accordion player who grew up in the other Great Depression). He came storming into the room like a Field Marshall in battle loudly claiming to God, his only begotten son, and the devil that a very serious infraction to 'life as it was meant to be' had just taken place.
We worked our way through those teen years and my Dad and I found a lot of common ground for understanding and appreciation as time went on. Bless him, he had his tradition. All I knew how to do was show up into my own time. Now I laugh with fond memory how it was so totally NOISE to him, and so totally FREEDOM to me.
I learned the guitar was not only an orchestra in itself, but the source of an unlimited expressive Sound Scape. It was studio as instrument.
I had the good fortune to see Jimi Hendrix live in concert 5 times. What always blew me away was the fact I knew in the studio recordings he played a lot of the guitar parts separately by overdubbing them. Yet, when you heard him live you’d swear it was all there.
It’s amazing the influence that short juncture in the 60’s had on me. And even more amazing that I sit here thinking 40 years ago yesterday, Jimi Hendrix left us. So much of the fire I still have for life was ignited then and although tempered somewhat, still burns bright within me.
Thank you Cheryl, today… “I’m gonna wave my freak flag high”… for Jimi.
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