Best guitar blues?

gord

gord

New member
excellent choice mike, i will have see if i can find something better. i doubt it though. gord
 
gord

gord

New member
hi teddy,the rolling stones and muddy waters, that was great music. i love you tube, so much rare and unusual videos. gord
 
teddy

teddy

Duckmeister
Gord

If it was not for MW both the Stones and Clapton might not have developed the way they did.

teddy
 
teddy

teddy

Duckmeister
grod, this belongs on Where Do You Draw the Line. To me it is more jazz than blues but of course, this is only my opinion. :grin::grin::grin:

teddy
 
Dorsetmike

Dorsetmike

Member
Blues is one of the many aspects of jazz. You might as well ask of another work, is this dixieland or jazz as ask if this work is blues or jazz.
 
teddy

teddy

Duckmeister
I think it is generally accepted that blues came first, and then split, with jazz developing slightly away from pure blues. Love both and would not like to split hairs over where exactly one becomes the other.

teddy
 
John Watt

John Watt

Member
My blues begins with Jimi Hendrix,
because he made me feel sad when I didn't own a Stratocaster and Marshall with effects.

B.B. King: "Why I Sing the Blues", 1964, "The Thrill is Gone".
The best uptown blues.

Please, gentlemen, don't forget, jazz is spontaneous improvisation, beginning somewhere.
 
John Watt

John Watt

Member
Yeah! I was confronted with a scene I never saw before. Please, let me explain.

I like going for long distance bike-hikes, and my favorites begin when I'm not sleepy,
so I leave before midnight, expecting to stay out all night, all the next day, and get back late at night,
in time to have a hot bath and sleep. I'm pedalling over a 100 miles and walking over twenty,
the walking being along Lake Erie shorelines, usually barefoot.

But the weather was so nice last Saturday, overcast and cool, some ice melting, I decided to go for one.
This winter began like a global warming winter, windy, rainy, but then the snowstorms hit.
When I made it to Reeb's Bay, north of Port Colborne, I was suprised to see a wall of ice and snow across the back of the bay.
This began at Morgan's Point and went across the horizon towards the city.
And the bay itself was just one smooth sheet of ice, with some fluffy snow trails. I never saw it like that before.
There were people walking, skidoos, and lots of ice fishing, holes and huts.
I was sitting on a fallen tree, my usual rest spot, and decided, why not.
So I left my bike where I could see it and started walking around, visiting and seeing lots of big yellow perch.
That was great, being so far out on the lake, looking back at the shore.

I caught some hot chocolate, held some fish, and caught a light.
That'll prolly never happen again, but I made a nice afternoon out of what I was seeing, and hearing.

My usual encounter? Sitting on the beach all alone, seeing the deep striations, all the white fossils,
the bleached remains of failed migrations, the acid colours of lichens and moss and marine fuels,
looking endlessly up the lake, looking just like the glacials just left, a ten thousand year view.
Jimi sang about "the echoes of glaciers from long ago", which I know, to be a part of Haida oral history.
Knowing my Mohawk friends, and their ownership of the lands I traverse, makes it all so much more beautiful.
 
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