Your mind is on vacation and your mouth is working overtime.
Buddy GuyTag: blues
Her voice had a thin thread of sadness running through it that made the song important, that made it tell a story that wasn’t in the words – a story of despair, of loneliness, of frustration. It was a story that all of them knew by heart and had always known because they had learned it soon after they were born and would go on adding to it until the day they died.
Ann PetryTag: blues singing-the-blues
John will never forsake the weak and the helpless, nor fail to bring hope to the hopeless. That is what they believe, and so they do not worry. They go on and laugh and sing. Things are bound to come out right tomorrow. That is the secret of Negro song and laughter.
Zora Neale HurstonTag: laughter soul hope song blues african-american
After we became a couple, she composed our time together. She planned days as if they were artistic events. One afternoon we went to Tybee Island for a picnic; we ate blueberries and drank champagne tinted with curacao and listened to Miles Davis, and when I asked the name of her perfume, she said it was L'Heure Bleue.
She talked about 'perfect moments.' One such moment happened that afternoon; she'd been napping; I lay next to her, reading. She said, 'I'll always remember the sounds of the sea and of pages turning, and the smell of L'Heure Bleue. For me they signify love.
Tag: perfume sea ocean blues blue champagne picnic miles-davis l-heure-bleue curacao perfect-moments tybee-island
What I can play is blues. She was never that into blues. I can salve with Lightning and Cotton, BB and Clapton and Stevie Ray. I can blast Son Seals singing Dear Son until the coyotes in the creek raise up a sympathetic sky ripping interpretation of the harmonica solo. Piercing howls and yelps. Sounds like it’s killing them and also like they love it. Which when you get right down to it is the blues.
Peter HellerWe start our lives with blues . . . with music. It's our first language. It's the rhythm of the womb. It's your mama's heartbeat inside your head.
David Mutti ClarkTag: music god spirituality blues griot troubadour
And here's to the blues, the real blues— where there's a hint of hope in every cry of desperation.
David Mutti ClarkTag: truth music spirituality blues race-relations griot troubadour
You got infinite channels and limitless rhymes, but the riddles of livin' stay undefined?
David Mutti ClarkTag: meaning-of-life spirituality blues griot troubadour
There’s something lyrical about an eternal truth. It’s a graceful riff. A free-flowing melody. Light and airy, it floats all around you. And when it lands on your ears, when you hear it for the first time, you instantly recognize it― because it’s like bumping into an ageless, best friend.
David Mutti ClarkTag: music spirituality blues race-relations griot troubadour
And a ride in a hearse tells us we’re all close to that final cruise . . . when the body dies and we move on. It’s just the body, man. It’s just the body. The soul’s already gone. So don’t be afraid of a dead body absent a soul. It’s empty, man. No resident. What you need to worry about is a living body that’s lost its soul. Now that is scary, man.” - Funk N. Wagnalls, owner of the Grim Reapers auto lot, a character in Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues.
David Mutti ClarkTag: music soul death-and-dying blues rock-and-roll grateful-dead griot hearse
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