Great thread! Glad you're back, Ghost.

The other Experience;
This kid named James Marshall Hendrix wanted to be somebody. His dad, Al, raised him alone, I read somewhere. his mother was kind of wild and split. He played guitar on a broom, but it didn't have the tone he was after, so he got an Airline or Silvertone, I forget which. Was a paratrooper in the 101st, liked tp fly and jump, and had a band called The King Casuals during his time in the service. When he got out, he did sessions and backups for The Isley Bros., Little Richard, etc. Tried a few drugs, played guitar a lot, and was Jimmy James for a while. Traded his Fender Duo-Sonic for a Strat, back when Jeff Baxter was still a clerk at Mannys or Sam Ash, and played his ass off. Did acid, started getting noticed for his style and energy. Nobody else played like that; maybe he was from another planet, I don't know. Got that little 3 piece band together, with a lot of help, as he wasn't much on administration, just wanted to play. Was in the right place at the right time, and somehow knew it, unlike most of the rest of us. Lived like life was a playground, but somehow managed to treat music as if it was the only thing that mattered, and maybe, for him it was. He was careless, vain, immature, self indulgent, and clowned around on stage way too much, but managed to change history in spite of all the parasites that wanted a piece of him. And in spite of his own flaws. If he hadn't died so early, in such a stupid manner, there's no telling what music would look like today.

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