There are several stereotypical images that might come into your mind when you think of the word "Blues
". Some people may see the ever-faithful african american picking slow, soulful notes on an old, beat up, pawn shop guitar. That image has changed over the years and once the Blues music sat into me it made me develop my own version of that moment in time. The moment in time where we all feel like nothing will get better, the bills will never be paid off, and the boss will never treat you like a person. This is just one account (which is my own) of how blues guitar just seemed to make things right again.
I grew up in Morrow, Ga in some of the most run-down neighborhoods in merto Atlanta. I was a normal boy really. I had normal interests, average grades, maybe one or two girlfriends during the high school years. My childhood consisted of me and my mom. My parents split when I was 3 (I have never seen them in the same room till' this day) so I was raised by my mom and grandparents. besides being piss-poor, me and my mom were lonely. We would stay at home and watch T.V., or play in the yard, but for the most part, we had to entertain each other. She worked up at the old FDIC building and she barely made enough to sustain us. One day I was flipping through the radio (only means of music I had) at around the age of 10 and an old Blind Boy Fuller
song came on the radio. Even though I didn't realize it then, I knew I would be a famous blues guitarist one day. Things changed, people died, and a certain deposit insurance corporation laid my mom off. I went to live with my dad at around the age of 12. My dad was an old school rock musician. I remember in the beginning I always would watch him play old Bob Seger
. Well, as you would all suspect, I learned to play guitar over the next few years. I started out with the typical Nirvana
stuff. Typical for a 12 year old. But then...it all changed when my dad took me to see B.B. King
. Overnight, my whole musical relationship with the guitar changed. Well more years passed (not easy to master blues) and I got better and better. It seems like all the pain I endured as a child wanted to fuel my blues power even more. To this day it seems like my guitar playing just pours out of the guitar without stopping. To me, it seems that my blues are like a river and my guitar is the waterfall. I am a lonely person on a shabby boat on that river, going it alone. Without the blues, I just wouldn't the person I am now. I have never felt a relationship so strongly with something as I have the Blues. No love, lust, or longing can describe it. When I am away from my equipment I am thinking about what I will play when I get back to it. In a way it is a curse passed down through the generations. Whatever the case may be, I feel it is my duty to carry on the mantle and light the fire for the next who wish to carry it on. If the Blues die, out roots and heritage will die with them. Had I not discovered the healing power of the Blues, I would be a very hateful and ugly person. It saved my life. Thanks for reading.
Questions/Concerns: email Eric K. B.