It is incredible for me to know that I have moved to the birthplace of a purely American form of music, the blues.
Driving into Greenwood for the first time in July, I saw a highway marker flash by: the B.B. King Memorial Highway. Wow! B.B. King! I loved him. I first became aware of B.B. (and Lucille) thanks to an Irish rock band called U2, which featured B.B. on a song of theirs, “When Love Comes to Town.” I might have hummed a bit of the song on my way into Greenwood. I still plan to visit the B.B. King Museum in Indianola when time permits.
I’ve taken a great interest in the musicians who hailed from this part of the country, particularly the blues legends such as B.B., Mississippi John Hurt and Robert Johnson. (I have visited and photographed the gravesite of Johnson many times. It is by far one of the most fascinating places I’ve ever been.) I’m also becoming increasingly aware of the influence many of these giants had on my favorite artists — far too many to name here. Needless to say, it has been an educational experience.
I have been a music lover since childhood, when I bought my first motion picture soundtrack for “Star Wars.” Then, when I hit puberty, I discovered rock. This was in the early 1980s, so you probably know what that meant: hair bands, parachute pants and MTV. Yes, I grew up on a steady diet of rock videos, knew all the bands, listened incessantly to the radio, and followed the Top 40 every week. I collected music tapes the way some kids collected fishing lures. It was a trend that continued into early adulthood, though tapes evolved into CDs.
Do I possess a shred of musical ability myself? Not a bit! To prove it, I quit band in the ninth grade. I had made the mistake of forcing myself to play the trombone, an instrument I hated. I should have chosen what I had instinctively leaned toward, the drums, but it was too late. That ship had sailed.
In my late 30s, I bought an acoustic guitar. I had no real desire to learn to play it; I just thought it looked cool. I’ve been trying to master the same basic chord formations ever since. Still, I like strumming the guitar and pretending I know how to tune it. Somehow it comforts me.
(Full confession: I also once bought an electric bass, simply because it was lemon-yellow and looked totally awesome. I had no business with that guitar!)
Music has the power to hold people together. I recently re-bonded with an old friend from high school over music. It was the thing we always had in common. Our tastes are just similar (and dissimilar) enough for us to continually learn something about our favorite music. It’s also fun to say, “Remember when?” as we comb through our libraries. A song might trigger reflections on girls we liked or long walks or just listening to music.
I have another friend who challenged me to listen to songs I’d never heard before and analyze them. I challenged him to do the same. This made me think more deeply about music, especially perhaps music I didn’t necessarily like. (I will never be a fan of Nine Inch Nails.) I realized that sometimes it’s the melody or a certain instrumentation that makes me love a song. Other times, it might be the message that shines through – good or bad, happy or sad.
I have delved into artists I previously would never have considered. Two examples are Taylor Swift and Chris Stapleton, both of whom have albums (“Red” and “Traveler,” respectively) that can move me to tears. (If you’ve ever been through a breakup, Swift and Stapleton have written a song about it.)
Perhaps because I grew up in a era when the album was king, I am stubbornly devoted to the long-playing record. I’m the kind of guy who puts on headphones to listen to an album from beginning to end. I jumped on the digital iTunes revolution when it started (about 20 years ago) but am no fan of “cherry-picking” songs. I realize full albums might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I can’t do without them.
So I am excited to live here knowing that music is embedded in this area’s history. I think it’s cool that we have Rhythm on the Rails, which is a genuine effort to expose the public to authentic live blues.
The other night, I put on a record, turned it up fairly loud, and stood between the speakers, letting the music wash through my head.
I recommend it anytime.
- Contact Dan Marsh at 662-581-7235 or dmarsh@gwcommonwealth-.com.
