TO THE CORE:
Before Iggy, before Townsend & Moon, there was Joe.
Rainbow tie-died, screwed up features, sweat soaked,
playing air guitar with a guttural abandon transmitting
a passion I aspired to. Gathered in the local flea-pit,
Black Sabbaths’s Geezer Butler sat somewhere way behind,
I leaned increasingly forward in my seat, closer to
the screen, to smell, to taste & ingest that passion
as ‘WoodStock’ the film played out. Santana & Ritchie Havens
gave me the roots of rhythm guitar, Sly gave me endless groove,
but Joe showed me how far you had to go if you loved music
to your core.