• Keith Richards Sings the Blues — Cuepoint — Medium
    https://medium.com/cuepoint/keith-richards-sings-the-blues-8d7e73a0545c

    Un exemple d’effondrement de contexte raconté par Keith Richards
    au coeur d’un interview passionnant sur le blues

    KR: When I think of Muddy’s records, I do basically think of the first band. That to me is what he had to work with when everybody burnt out. As it went on in the 60s and the 70s, Muddy was no longer playing to his own audience. That’s the other weird thing when you come to be recognized as a great blues artist, and you’re not playing to the people or the atmosphere that actually created what it is that you’re playing for.
    Muddy Waters and Robert Cray performing in Sacramento, California on January 1, 1970

    Suddenly, you’re playing to a bunch of white college kids—not that there’s anything wrong with that—but sometimes they take on a different attitude because they can’t come to terms with it. For 20 or 30 years, they’re playing juke joints and places on the South Side and slowly, in an unstoppable way, the bigger they get, the less they’re playing to that section of society that the whole thing evolved from. It’s known as a declension. The bigger you get, the less you get to do it for the people that you originally started to do it for. For me it’s kind of weird because in an ideal situation, why can’t you do it for both?

    The fact is [that] Muddy Waters in the 70s is playing a certain kind of a gig where they’re probably less black people in the audience than there are at a rock ‘n’ roll concert. Muddy, as they all did, got an early introduction when they went to Europe when they started playing all these college or academic scenes. The weird thing is that the people who got the music started around the world were those kind of guys we all hate—not musicians but schoolteacher types—spotty, buck-teethed, very earnest and academi, they knew the matrix number of every record.

    And you wondered what the hell are they in there for in the first place. But they were the kind who booed Muddy off when he came on stage with an electric guitar. They were gonna tell Muddy Waters what’s blues and what ain’t. They know more. It was a strange thing Muddy Waters and the other great blues players ended up playing to white people [and] not the people the music was born in and learnt their craft, a vital ingredient to keeping it going.

    There is a problem with blues players that they come to a halt when they make that crossover. But, at the same time, they want the crossover because it’s more bread. It’s not that you can’t make a good show to a bunch of white college kids, but at the same time it’s not the reason that the music existed. The reason the music exists is because you couldn’t reach those people in the first place. You played the blues and the chitlin’ circuit because that was all there was. And then suddenly it’s all changed and you’re a big deal but you’re not playing.

    You’re not going to knock it. But you don’t get the same type of performance out of those guys as when they were playing when they got their shit together. Suddenly, you become a blues master. Hey, you’re not going to turn down a good paying gig. You struggled all your life playing the chitlin’ circuit. You’re not going to turn down some phenomenal amounts of money to play to 10 to 15,000 people. It doesn’t matter what color they are. But in a way it does. It’s something you have to come to terms with. But you find that you don’t get any powerful new input from them once they’ve gotten into that. They still play brilliantly, and they still do a good show, and everybody goes away happy, but in actual fact, it’s the artist that suffers.

    #effondrement_contexte

  • Why Gil Scott-Heron Wrote “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”
    https://medium.com/cuepoint/why-gil-scott-heron-wrote-the-revolution-will-not-be-televised-6e298f9d4e2

    In some of the rural towns surrounding Lincoln, there were small units of the Ku Klux Klan. Just a few years earlier, the Klan burned a 30-foot cross one night near the college campus. Concern grew that the local Klan might take revenge on students for the riots in Philadelphia. So, Gil and some buddies decided to form an impromptu defense squad and went “out prowling in the fields with rifles,” remembers Cornwell. At one point, Gil sat with a rifle and a bandolier about 100 yards from the spot of cross burnings in 1962 and 1966, determined to confront Klansmen if they attempted it again. When it started to rain, he linked up with Brian and two fellow students, stashed a few rifles in the trunk of the Rambler and headed out on the highway, one of them clutching a machete. They were headed to a gas station to get some coal oil to make Molotov cocktails. Just four miles north of campus, going 60 miles an hour, one of the tires blew out and the convertible screeched across the four lanes, smashed through a chain-link fence and hit the corner wall of an insurance company office.

    Gil flew out of the car and hit the pavement, leaving a gash on the side of his head, but he was conscious—“the driver’s side door handle was still in his outstretched left hand, though the car was now some twenty feet away”—and the other three also survived the accident. They quickly grabbed the rifles and shells out of the trunk and hid them across the highway. When a state trooper stopped to help them, he didn’t suspect anything and gave them a ride back to campus. Battered and bruised, Gil and his friends recovered from their injuries, drank a few beers and plotted their next move.

    #usa #révolte #révolution #poésie