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Brett loaned me the Keith Richards book. Leslie read it first, I was reading Medium Raw, Anthony Bourdaine's book which was better and a touch less self absorbed than his first book, Kitchen Confidential. As a deadhead I was quite turned off by the gauche Bourdaine when he said that listening to the dead in his kitchen was immediate grounds for dismissal.
In this book he talks about being tripped out at Hot Tuna concerts and redeems himself, at least somewhat partially.
Anyway back to Keef, I have to confess that I could not finish the thing, or even start it properly, for that matter. Everything was about the bitches, or that prick Mick, or sticking a needle in your arm. It nauseated me frankly, the dopey stupidity, the misogyny, the petty smallness of this rock god.
I did like a few things. He unveils the secret of his playing - open G and leave off the top string, a secret he says he was forced to reveal, at near gunpoint, by Ike Turner. An interesting breakdown of Charlie Watts snare to hi-hat relationship, the added half beat creating the signature Stones texture. Neat stories about Graham Parsons, a very condescending tone regarding Brian Jones. He speaks fondly of a New Barbarians tour that was the worst music I have ever heard.
I also learned that if you are in a knife fight, it is always best to cut your opponent across the forehead initially, the sheet of blood causing little harm but will temporarily blind him and put an end to the swordplay.
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| Keef |
I found out last month that my father was down to three words, which he repeats endlessly in the home. Old man, old man, old man, old man, repeated mnemonically over and over like the rain man. And one other word. His wife asked me,"What does schnaim mean? This was easy, hebrew was his first language. It means time. It's time. I need to go see him and be with him. Even if it turns out to be a one way interchange.
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Many of my friends and family are going through major changes right now, physically, emotionally, medically, financially. A few of you are under enormous burdens. (You hypochondriacs and drama queens forget it, I'm not talking about you. The people I am talking to, know I am talking to them.) I wish you the strength to endure and hope that you will share your burdens with us and those family members that love you, on a scale that everyone can handle and that things get righted soon. Things rarely stay crappy forever.
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Something to ponder. I was recalling a passage yesterday from the book Tortoise mind that I wrote about a few months ago. They gave you a number sequence - 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 15, 17___ ... and ask you to fill in the next number. I guessed 19, which is completely in the box, and wrong in this particular instance, I might add, the actual number set in question only having the attribute and parameters of being an ever ascending number. The number I believe he was looking for was 18 or 22 or seventeen to the eleventh power. Coincidences do happen and you can't always assume.
4 comments:
I love it when stupid people call me a hypochondriac. Shows their lack of sensitivity and medical knowledge.
I don't know who you are anonymous one but I can tell you that whatever malady you are currently suffering from probably doesn't hold a candle to what the person I wrote this message for is dealing with at present.
i think i read some of that other Bourdaine book you mention; he likes to play punk rock in the kitchen, which would drive me completely nuts.
"Medium Raw" will be back on the shelf at our local library, 641.5092, as soon as i return it, which will be soon; Bourdain is so very angry; f'ing this and f'ing that, and him and her; i can only read a bit at a time, then i have to put it down, go take a shower or something; still, there are some good bits, amidst all the bile...i'm sure after this, Keith's book will be a walk in the park.
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