gypsyjimm, Have been meaning to comment. Your words make me wish I could hear your music.

And, on this somewhat melancholy, rather lonely evening in San Francisco, your photograph compels tides from decades past. They surge and wash from the Fillmore to the old Winterland ballroom, to dives in the forests south of here, and back again to rathole clubs from one end of this town to the other.

Bands from the Faces to Santana to Quicksilver Messenger Service, and Big Brother and the Holding Company with a stringy wand of pure gutteral fire fronting, Ms. Janis Joplin. Neil Young, thin and strange with a ragged version of Crazy Horse playing a bar in the dripping redwoods in La Honda. And on to Pogues with Shane McGowan and his indestructible liver and forever mossy and dreadful teeth. And local maniacs like Flipper, Stiv Bator. The Clash, early on when the message was as clear as a shiv between the ribs. And another from the UK, a madman who bashed out deeply personal Irish folk-rock from his acoustic six-string, Luka Bloom. And countless times at the foot of the stage, worshiping with swaying hips and near-to-breaking heart as Richard Thompson wove spells rich and mysterious. A rare evening with John Hiatt, alone with piano and acoustic guitar, flaying our hearts with "Have a Little Faith in Me." Little known brilliants like Black Lab with bookish and beautiful Paul Durham fronting. A drunken night in the early 90's as Paul Rodgers and a woozy but incandescent Bad Company blew the roof off the Great American Music Hall.

Acoustic princes: Fahey, Bull, (Michael) Hedges (rest his soul), and Kottke.

If I never hear another show live my belly is forever full. I thank you, and your words and image, for opening the back alley to so many memories.

- akabukowski

An aside: OMG, I thought perhaps I was the last living soul who remembers Quicksilver. I think I'll have another hit of fresh air now :)

I'd like to hear that set to music. It does have the feel of the era.

gypsy--absogoddamlutely beautiful.

You rock lil' brother!

As I read the words, soft, dark music plays in my head. Tangible music with smells, and emotions, and experience. Beautiful gypsy!

It was me!!!!!!

For 16 and half hours. Man was it boring.

Why am I a slave to electricity?

I guess my next Master will have to be a back-up generator.

Wow, you are a beautiful writer,thers a soul endearing web woven by your words,I myself have been in the back alleys of scotland and eire with shane mcgowan as his opening act in days gone past,days of yore alone on san fransisco streets,or in a make shift studio with linda perry,just to greet halloween morning to the sounds of preperation for the spectatcle in the perk that very eve,then across the BART at an amazing speed,just to get stuck upon a mountian top,trying to stay warm beneath the hand dryer as the mountian winds howled at me and me back at them the curses of a stranded being,yelling "I need to get to Santa Barbara please or i"ll be late to open the show for my friends the sisters of mercy..well that was another time indeed where there was something in the darkness with me..and this is a true story of one nite all hollows eve outside the great metropilis they call san fransisco,san fransisco the city of dreams..thanx once again for your kind rendering of past memories...Jim

Thank you also for your kind words,there is a dark melody that my mind precieves,a dark melody from the heart the heart of a travelling gypsy