Faux Fu

Friday, November 11, 2005

The Noise Room

Last night, the Telepaths, (minus one) got together to create an unholy, r&r noise. It was pure pleasure. Turns out our bass player is a guitarist extraordinaire, our new drummer has "hands of stone," our vocalist found his "sweet spot," and my new guitar is like a bolt of lightening in my hands. At least that's how it all seemed to me from my vantage point. There's something about simple chords, a solid beat, tossed off lyrics, sing-a-long choruses. My father, in his later years, spent much his time at the old fishing hole, he used to say there was a Chinese proverb about how fishing didn't count against your time on earth. That's how I feel about playing guitar. It's out of time, a pure pleasure. By the way, looking for old Chinese proverbs, I found this: Tiger father begets Tiger son.

Blog Archive