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Come and Play before/after I've been teaching kids down at the coffee shop how to play the blues. These little punk rock artists. Just to have someone to jam with, someone with which to play. I share my sandbox graciously. I watched one kid play with me, work his exacting yet unsure way through songs, free open jamming seemed so far beyond him. But it was a consecrated jam, you could feel the connection in the music, hear it, see it. Sacred. Taught another kid last night, spoke of the one before him. "He's a very, VERY good guitarist" the kid said with awe. Then I am your jesus, and you should worship me. He was good, but not great. The difference between a good guitarist and a great one? A certain sweetness you can't teach, but can be learned from the soul. Yours or the collective channeling creative subconcious. I reflected after I finally got one kid through the blues progression, and played some of his songs, jamming along, wondering how far I've come. At the end of it all, it just brushed the tip of my talents. I used to cut heads and trade licks with any other guitarist I'd meet. Always winning, not even trying. Now they don't even try. And I just want someone to play with, no matter how shitty.
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