“I’ve been touted for my guacamole. I’ll stand by my method. People have asked me to come to their home and prepare it. Restaurants have asked me about it.”

There was a lot curious activities emerging in London, Amsterdam, and Berlin back then developing some fiercely fuzzy of synth-like effects way outside the norm which really blew the lid off things.

White people get nervous and speed things up. You don’t have to be in a hurry because you ain’t got nothing to gain and you ain’t got nothin’ to lose. And that’s where the groove lies.

The blues is life itself.

Then, believe it or not, along came the wave of the English cats like John Mayall, Eric Clapton and the Stones embracing the great American art form – the blues.

They prospect of seeing oneself in the mirror clean-shaven is too close to a Vincent Price film… a prospect not to be contemplated, no matter the compensation.

The band is tight enough. Quit practicing!

Lightnin’ Hopkins was something of a fixture on the Houston coffee house scene so we were witness to eccentric blues brilliance close up.

One springs to mind: one of our very first gigs in a small East Texas town was not well promoted. At least, that was our conclusion.

In 1950, the biggest amp you could get was no bigger than a tabletop radio.

After the band loaded in and the curtain opened, we realized there was exactly one paying customer in the audience.

Water doesn’t hurt a vinyl record. Put it into a dishwasher and you’re fine.

Can’t do it, simply cause underneath ’em is too ugly.

Maybe browse online, yet that tactile feel of flipping through a stack of vinyl remains one of life’s simple pleasures.

It’s important to collect unusual characters. It keeps you sharp.

No, he plugged in and turned it up and got miles and miles ahead of the game in one fateful act of just plugging in.

When I was around 7 or 8 my Dad took me to a B.B. King recording session, well, that really did it. Huge and lasting impressions.