Today is The Day the Music Died – the day Buddy Holly died. No offense to Ritchie Valens, who was young and did have some great hits, or the Big Bopper who, inexplicably, has a box set available. I’m assuming there are 60 versions of “Chantilly Lace” on there.
Like any kid who grew up loving rock n roll and then bought a guitar, Buddy is a hero of mine – one of the first rock n roll guys I fell in love with; was always “my guy.” Amazing songs, amazing guitar, and looked a little geeky. With his perfect combination of simple, heartfelt songs mixed with studio experimentation (e.g. double-tracking vocals, bringing in strings for “True Love Ways”) it’s a downright crime we never got to hear more than the first 18 months of his career before he hit the ground in Clear Lake, Iowa. We can dream about what he would have done with the Beatles and the millions of other bands that were a direct result of his records, but of course we’ll never know. Every coupla years I go through an extended period of becoming obsessed with Buddy – listening to nothing but him, playing his songs only and watching “The Buddy Holly Story” over and over. One time back in college I had a million pops and then called directory assistance in Lubbock, TX and tried to get a hold of his parents. I’m sure had we talked, I would have been amazing. Hmm.
So anyways, raise your glass tonight for Buddy Holly and REAL rock n roll.
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