Some things just happen for a reason. A parking spot just as you need it. That cheque you’ve been waiting for arrives in the mail at precisely the right time. The job opportunity comes along right when you need it most. Somebody mails you a CD out of the blue while you’re considering what to write for the next column. Well….the latter just waltzed into my mailbox….it’s the most beautiful rendition of this classic I’ve ever heard. The vocalist was only twelve when it was recorded.
Funny. We always remember the stars, the champions, and we always place them at the head of the class even if they were no more than a part of one. This last weekend I spent an inordinate amount of time pondering what the music world would have been like if, say, Led Zeppelin had not become gods to so many and Hendrix and Clapton and Beck had not headed the infamous “best guitarists” lists outfits like Rolling Stone Magazine always roll out when they have nothing else to capture readers’ attentions (seriously, how do you compare Tommy Emmanuel, Eric Clapton, Christopher Parkening, and Phil Keaggy— all exceptional guitarists, all deserving of attention from most who really love the instrument and yet living in completely different worlds.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 