WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Ladies and Gentlemen, the late, great, never to be dupli-cate Freddie King! (mic drop)
byVanderleunonJuly 21, 2022
Rap? What dap? Da blues Is da news.
Want mo? Fur sho!
Listen to him moan,
listen to him call. Everybody rockin’
to the Texas Cannonball!
I love the tip, I love the top
I love you better than a hog loves slop
‘Cause you’re a big legged woman
With a short, short miniskirt
Promise me darlin’
You’ll never make me feel like dirt
Do you have the vine goes around the stump?
You are mine, call it sugar lump
‘Cause you’re a big legged woman
With a short, short miniskirt
Promise me darlin’
You’ll never make me feel like dirt
I’ve told you once, I’ve told you twice
We go together like fried beans and rice
‘Cause you’re a big legged woman
With a short, short miniskirt, alright
Promise me darlin’
You’ll never make me feel like dirt
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
You mess with my woman
I’m gonna hurt you first
‘Cause she’s a big legged woman
With a short, short miniskirt
Promise me darlin’
You’ll never make me feel like dirt
I love my big legged woman
I love my big legged woman
I love my big legged woman
I love my big legged woman
I love my big legged woman
I love my big legged woman
Big Legged Woman–damn!
Those blank-faced bastards in the crowd didn’t deserve the euphorious spectacle, but I bet they felt superior to their friends, once comparing live concert-going fortuity, for getting hip at a rare and safe Minstrel show, bragging about their counter-culture bona fides and cheap tickets. Those bastards still don’t get it, baby. I’d give their fortunes to have Freddie play again, especially at my place, to re-invigorate the youth: “You don’t know music. This is music, Sonny Jim.” The only thing as good is Alan “Blind Owl” Wilson on harp with John Lee Hooker, or, frankly, Beethoven finalizing Schiller. However, what would you rather see and hear in a bar? I can only speak so much German whilst doing shots of rum or whiskey, so….
Rev.Bro. Generik BroderickJuly 23, 2022, 1:18 AM
Freddie King, born of Ella Mae King and J.T. Christian in 1934, appears to also be a ‘bastard’. He was no blank face and I would bet if you called him a bastard to his face, he might have set you straight. Unless he was winning your chips inna poker game.
It was the “3 Kings”—B.B., Albert and Freddie–that made Blues acceptable to Chablis sipping and Brie nibbling white folks back in the late 60s. They had help of course from Mayall, Clapton, Beck and Page.
Here is Clapton playing Freddie King’s “Hideaway” back in 1966.
Now THIS is art and talent. Not like that unshaven whiny hippie chick that idolizes Greta The Magic Retard.
madmarcJuly 22, 2022, 6:53 AM
If you can find a decent recording of it, listen to Freddy play “Pack it Up”, but turn the volume up! Damn, this guy would get up on stage, gyrate, sweat, and moan and play his heart out. Clapton used to love playing with him as I recall.
Keep morale up by any means necessary.
No one said it would be easy living in a Potemkin kayfabe abomination led by kindergarten level IQ Long Marchers to the global soviet.
VanderleunJuly 22, 2022, 8:06 AM
“No one said it would be easy living in a Potemkin kayfabe abomination led by kindergarten level IQ Long Marchers to the global soviet.”
My new favorite bumper strip.
pbirdJuly 22, 2022, 8:09 AM
You should have a “you made me giggle” button.
ghostsniperJuly 22, 2022, 1:35 PM
That guy spent the time to learn that machine and the effort to make it his own. He never looks at that fretboard, the frets are right where they’ve always been, and his hand knows it. Notice the finger pick on his thumb and index finger, kinda rare. Again, he made it his own.
You roll the tone off and make the notes fatter, thus, the spaces in between become smaller or nonexistent. With hammer-ons, pull-offs and slides it almost sounds like one big note that rises and dives all along the middle.
That’s a vintage Gibson ES345 with varitone. I played one once and my cousin owns it. It used to belong to the guitar player in the Holding Company. You could strike a note, turn the volume down and sit it on the stand, go eat supper and come back an hour later, crank the volume and that note is still playin….
I reviewed two album stacks, which I’ve not done for awhile, I actually own some of his stuff. I didn’t realize I did. Been spinning CD’s lately it’s just easier.
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Green Pants Interior by Klahn
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
Big Legged Woman–damn!
Those blank-faced bastards in the crowd didn’t deserve the euphorious spectacle, but I bet they felt superior to their friends, once comparing live concert-going fortuity, for getting hip at a rare and safe Minstrel show, bragging about their counter-culture bona fides and cheap tickets. Those bastards still don’t get it, baby. I’d give their fortunes to have Freddie play again, especially at my place, to re-invigorate the youth: “You don’t know music. This is music, Sonny Jim.” The only thing as good is Alan “Blind Owl” Wilson on harp with John Lee Hooker, or, frankly, Beethoven finalizing Schiller. However, what would you rather see and hear in a bar? I can only speak so much German whilst doing shots of rum or whiskey, so….
Freddie King, born of Ella Mae King and J.T. Christian in 1934, appears to also be a ‘bastard’. He was no blank face and I would bet if you called him a bastard to his face, he might have set you straight. Unless he was winning your chips inna poker game.
It was the “3 Kings”—B.B., Albert and Freddie–that made Blues acceptable to Chablis sipping and Brie nibbling white folks back in the late 60s. They had help of course from Mayall, Clapton, Beck and Page.
Here is Clapton playing Freddie King’s “Hideaway” back in 1966.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9N8Qi6zLSU
Now THIS is art and talent. Not like that unshaven whiny hippie chick that idolizes Greta The Magic Retard.
If you can find a decent recording of it, listen to Freddy play “Pack it Up”, but turn the volume up! Damn, this guy would get up on stage, gyrate, sweat, and moan and play his heart out. Clapton used to love playing with him as I recall.
Wonderful, thank you.
Keep morale up by any means necessary.
No one said it would be easy living in a Potemkin kayfabe abomination led by kindergarten level IQ Long Marchers to the global soviet.
“No one said it would be easy living in a Potemkin kayfabe abomination led by kindergarten level IQ Long Marchers to the global soviet.”
My new favorite bumper strip.
You should have a “you made me giggle” button.
That guy spent the time to learn that machine and the effort to make it his own. He never looks at that fretboard, the frets are right where they’ve always been, and his hand knows it. Notice the finger pick on his thumb and index finger, kinda rare. Again, he made it his own.
You roll the tone off and make the notes fatter, thus, the spaces in between become smaller or nonexistent. With hammer-ons, pull-offs and slides it almost sounds like one big note that rises and dives all along the middle.
That’s a vintage Gibson ES345 with varitone. I played one once and my cousin owns it. It used to belong to the guitar player in the Holding Company. You could strike a note, turn the volume down and sit it on the stand, go eat supper and come back an hour later, crank the volume and that note is still playin….
I reviewed two album stacks, which I’ve not done for awhile, I actually own some of his stuff. I didn’t realize I did. Been spinning CD’s lately it’s just easier.