Jack Bruce Gone

I found out last week Jack Bruce Died.  Oh no!  Loved Jack Bruce. He had one of the most amazing voices in the rock world. Just soaring, way into the clouds…  And a great bassist, composer, song writer.  I felt very sad.  All week I kept hearing his songs and Googled him and Cream and listened to him sing over and over again.  Just last year I watched the YouTube concert reunion of Cream back in 2005 in England.  A superb show with everyone in such good form. It didn’t seem that long ago.. Jack Bruce’s voice still strong and unique, his playing wonderful.  Spent last Saturday listening to “Theme from an Imaginary Western”.  Over and over again, the song is mesmerizing.  The version with him on piano only.  Then I discovered Felix Pappalardi’s version (with Mountain).   Leslie West.  Wow!  I listened to that on and off for hours.  What an incredible song. That gives you that huge ache in your heart, for what?  You don’t know, can’t put your finger on it. A strange longing. The words  are so simple but a thousand emotions and pictures start swirling  in your head. But you feel it deep in your heart, even if your heart is very tired.

All week I kept wanting to talk about  Jack Bruce.  No one I was with knew who he was. What?  How can that be?  Of course T knows, he’s a musician and S would know.   I even know some young kids who know about Jack Bruce.

Went to church and afterwards at the social hour talked to the music director who is getting his PhD in composing.  A young guy but not that young…. After chit chatting about the new music (modern) he was doing for the late service, I brought up Jack Bruce. “Who’s That”?   “Are you kidding me?  You don’t know who Jack Bruce is?”  Arrogant, I know but I was shocked that someone studying music, a musician and composer wouldn’t know.

Reminds me of a friend of mine who saw Patti Smith a couple of years ago in a small club in Chicago.  Patti Smith!  He described the small accessible venue and what a great performance she gave, and how it was one of the best musical evenings of his life.  He and his wife and I were having dinner at the time and talking about music.   ” Who’s Patti Smith?” the wife said.   “What”?  “You don’t know who Patti Smith is”? Both he and I lit into her… ….  “No, never heard of her, who is she?”   My friend rolled his eyes and said “Am I really married to you?”

All arrogant, opinionated, judgmental  I know.  But really Jack Bruce?  Patti Smith?

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About O

I live in a suburb of an American City. I write to try and understand myself and the world around me. I love nature, art, music, literature and beauty in all its forms. I think the world is crazy and many of us will soon go insane from living in this world. What I love almost more than anything is my garden. I love its trees its shrubs and its many flowers. I love the birds, their flying and singing and dancing movements in and out of the sky and garden. Their freedom. I could watch birds all day long, though sometimes they act horribly, and fight and squabble over the birdbath, seeds, and space just like people. As do other animals, and sometimes you wonder if anger, violence, greed and chaos, really has to be part of life, and why. I love to work in my garden. To get muddy and dirty, digging, weeding, mowing, pruning and deadheading. Then, I like to have a cool glass of white wine or red, or sometimes a Manhattan, and drink in hand, I walk around and look at the fruits of my labor. My blog is whennothingworks because for a long time nothing has worked. Friends, family, jobs, money, fame, houses, careers, lovers, things--- it all just doesn't work sometimes, or most of the time. The garden always works. Nature and its beauty always work. Whatever your garden is and wherever it is. My garden always gives peace, delight, calm, majesty, and beauty. And, in my garden, I can sit quietly and think, or just breathe, and somehow manage to survive the world.
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