Where better to study the sounds of the people than at the SEEDIEST DIVE BAR IN THE CITY. I'm talkin about a place that opens bar at 8 AM. A place that is literally held together by duct tape. I'm talking about the Goat.
Live blues start at 10 almost every night, so the Goat is a perfect place for a little critical analysis. You can't pigeonhole the patronage to any kind of stereotype, either. You've got young guns out to drink and mingle and old timers just hanging in there, all on top of some local live blues acts. My research will begin immediately, or whenever I can find a DD.
Here's their Myspace Link if you want to see who is playing in January.
It was a cold rainy day in the month of march, the year of our lord 1995. Not really. I don't know if any of that is true. But what I'm trying to tell you is that I remember hearing Stevie Ray Vaughan's Texas Flood for the first time.
I was young, younger than I am now at least, and previously my musical preferences had been based on whatever was on the radio when my mother drove me around. But this Texas Flood guy was crazy. His guitar had it's own voice. His voice had it's own guitar. I know that doesn't make any sense, but hey, I was like, 10.
Listening to Stevie Ray, I wondered at how he could be so sad but make it seem so cool, even beautiful. And thus my awareness of Blues was born. The flood gates were open. You could have anything wrong with you. Your girl could've left you, you could be stuck in life, no money, no job. And you could turn all that into a blues badge of honor. I learned that feeling down and out is just another part of life, and it's never been so bad that you couldn't make a song out of it.
SRV opened me up to Lonnie Mack, Albert collins, and others. I even found out about Jimi Hendrix from SRV's cover of Little Wing. While my musical tastes encompass more than just one genre now, I think I got the most out of blues. Maybe it's a way of thinking about things. The way I see it is, you could just be sad, or you could be soulful.
