Music is nature's language. What it is telling you is to shut up for once and listen.
JJ cale is the ultimate afternoon jam on the front porch partner. He has the look, he has the feel, and god knows he has the tunes. Santana plays his songs, Clapton plays his songs, lynard skynard, Kansas, even I play his songs. Ok, maybe I don’t really belong on this list
You cant sell news stories that have data and cautious predictions. Where is the panic? Where is the impending doom? C'mon people , give me something to work with here…
Chiropractor. A good chiropractor. I am sure he needs one. He is SO laid back his spine must be bent over backwards by now. I have never heard anyone singing, or playing the guitar for that matter, in a more relaxed and laid back manner. It is almost like he is not there, but he is . it is just his way. HIS way.
JJ cale is the ultimate afternoon jam on the front porch partner. He has the look, he has the feel, and god knows he has the tunes. Santana plays his songs, Clapton plays his songs, lynard skynard, Kansas, even I play his songs. Ok, maybe I don’t really belong on this list, but I do. Almost in every jam. It's just great songs, and whenever I play them I am sent to another place, where the magnolia trees give us a shade and a cold ice tea is brought outside with a smile.
They call me the breeze, I keep blowin' down the road Well now, they call me the breeze, I keep blowin' down the road I ain't got me nobody, I don't carry me no load
JJ cale for me is the epitome of the singer song writer, playing almost for himself, without any consideration to anyone else, without waiting for anyone, without asking permission. He is indeed the breeze, and in his slow flow he can't be stopped. Not that anyone would ever want to…
His songs are never complicated. Our life is already too complicated as it is, he is giving us the refuge, the silent mellow antidote to stress and hardship. Don’t cry sister cry, everything will be just fine, everything will be just fine.
His guitar sounds is soft but not weak, tender but penetrating, bluesy but with a melody of a mutated country song, a hybrid of southern styles, a mutt of music, and it sounds so right.
playing slowly with his thumb he is caressing the chords, almost shy, hesitating what to say, one note, and then a couple more joining, a silent sensitive solo is being slowly brewed on slow open fire, as we sit in the evening chill exchanging stories of train travel and moments of magically mundane lives.
And then there is the singing. Enchanting, whispering, almost speaking voice, the softness of steel and the rugged resonance of someone who saw it all.
I don’t remember which album I bought first, as the rest followed soot.
troubadour, eight, grasshopper, guitar man, naturally… they were all gems. I still remember the covers, I still remember sitting like in a trance listening to those tunes, those melodies, those fragrant summer evenings which are compacted into every chord, every strum, every verse.
I suddenly had a flashback to my parents house, my room as a teenager…. Maybe that is not where his music was supposed to send me, as it was an urban hi-rise and not a dusty front porch, but it doesn’t matter. It just shows you the magic jj Cale has.
The transporter. The hobo of our soul, just waiting for that next train to come.
they call him the breeze,
he keeps blowing ME down the road…