Thursday, January 20, 2011

A Night on Beale

On my cross country trip last Sept. on the way back to Cali I made a stop in Memphis.
Got in just in time to head down to Beale for a bite and some live music.
Americans can fuck up a wet dream. While the history of Beale is still evident in the architecture, it sure has hell is hard to find in the music. After bouncing around several clubs I was about to pull my hair out from listening to the same material from one place to the next. Every watered down blues cover and Elvis tune you could imagine. Its a god damn shame to watch good players succumb to shit tourist want to hear ( Heartbreak Hotel, Mustang Sally etc. ), but I understand it pays the bills.
The food was so so and I was aching to get back on the road. As I was leaving and walking by a park I heard the sweet sounds of someone singing the real deal. I sat down on the grass and heard this big old woman, kind of like Ethel Waters meets Gladis Night. WOW!! After she sang, I walked over to the cafe stand she was waiting at and bought her a bottle of water and said thank you. "Thank you?" she said. Yes, thanks for making my night and my trip here to Beale, you saved me from the fake. "Oh honey," laughing," You are so sweet. God bless you." No, God bless you.

1 comment:

  1. good story...you gotta really dig around for the music but it is still there.

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