Month: November 2005

link wray – r.i.p.

by

Rock legend Link Wray, writer of Rawhide and Rumble dies at 76

COPENHAGEN, Denmark (AP) – Guitar player Link Wray, who invented the power chord, the major modus operandi of modern rock guitarists, has died. He was 76. A native of Dunn, North Carolina, Wray’s style is considered the blueprint for heavy metal and punk music. Wray’s is best known for his 1958 instrumental Rumble, 1959’s Rawhide and 1963’s Jack the Ripper. His music has appeared in movies like Pulp Fiction, Independence Day and Desperado.

His style is said to have inspired many other rock musicians, including Pete Townsend of the Who. David Bowie, Bob Dylan, Steve Van Zandt and Bruce Springsteen have also been quoted as saying that Wray and Rumble inspired them to become musicians. “He is the king; if it hadn’t been for Link Wray and Rumble, I would have never picked up a guitar’,” Townsend wrote on one of Wray’s albums. Neil Young once said: “If I could go back in time and see any band, it would be Link Wray and the Raymen.”

According to Wray’s official website, he invented the fuzz tone by deliberately punching holes in his amplifier speakers. In 2002, Guitar World magazine elected Wray one of the 100 greatest guitarists of all time. Wray, known for his trademark black leather jacket, toured the United States and Canada from 1997 to 2002. He was half Shawnee Indian.

Denmark’s Politiken newspaper said his funeral had already taken place in Copenhagen’s Christian Church. No dates were given. His family could not be reached for comment. His official site does not mention his death. Wray is survived by his wife and son.

who knows where the time goes

by

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it’s time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it’s time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it’s time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time
For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?
-the late great sandy denny-

i guess i like the fall so much because it makes the spring seem so much better
maybe im a sadist… i get more pleasure knowing the i’m at the ebb rather than the peak

its related to daylight savings time, i know that

but it’s all uphill from here…. which is what i’m afraid of.

the only thing mick jagger and i have in common

by

It was a refreshing August evening, the night I had sex with Carly Simon. Her album Film Noir had just bombed. I’ll admit there was a sense of desperation in the air. I was 17 and she was old enough to be my mother, hell, she was older than my mother. Her children were away at college, Dartmouth and Pepperdine, if I remember correctly. We lay under the covers and just talk for what seemed to be hours. It was very cosmic. We didn’t really know each other, but we had a connection. I can tell she was a damaged, a sore loser. I was there to make her feel like a winner. I told her she was taking my virginity, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.