A Hippie Moment
Ok, so what if I am a hippie?? I don't care! My favorite kind of music is classic rock and right now I am listening to one of my most favorite songs "Woodstock" by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young like I am going to turn into stardust right now and ride far away to Pennylane on a Horse with No Name. It's addicting, reminding me of a time of freelove, without a fear of disease. Granted it was out there, we just didn't know about it, but it was a time when the occult became popular again and people relished in their ignorance while still wanting to understand the other aspects of life. Jimmy Page emersed himself in Aleister Crowley and Gerald Gardener danced naked under the full moon.
The vocals of CSN & Y as well as America reminds me of the fantasy movies I watched as a kid, America being the actual band that did much of the soundtrack to The Last Unicorn. It reminds me of rich watercolor paintings done in earth tones. Like the art of Brian Froud. Gnomes spilling out of tree bark, dancing to the poems of W.B. Yeates. False parades of Robin and his Merry Men as he walks in a wedding precession with the maid Marion.
It's the smell of damp soil. Of that rich, luscious earthy smell of decaying leaves and mushrooms.
But then again, it is the Harpy with the large sagging breasts and the Red Bull. It is the large, green sludge of a swamp hag from Legend as she lurks to find a young human boy to eat, and the demented froglike Gollum in the first animation of The Hobbit. It is as much of the gruesome things as it is the beautiful ones. It is the faery child that lures the neighborhood children to the lake so she might drown them.
Its music to dance to like nobody is watching.
It's Rhiannon as she rides her mare bearback through wales from the desperate cries of Llew.
Yes, my name is Stevie. The name of the very musician that wrote such hippie music herself although I can not play a note on my own. I'd like to think it is in my blood somehow. Pulsing through my veins like an electric current. The powerful, masculine wail of the electric guitar as Page rocks on to Stairway, or the sweet yet comical melody of Trees as Geddy Lee sings of Maples and Oaks.
To be totally serious yet funny at the same time: the only song I know of that comes close to that feeling I get when I listen to that music would be Tenacious D's Tribute. Strange, I know . . . but it just oozes classic rock like you wouldn't believe . . . maybe its the addition of demon's into the lyrics, lol -- but it is the only song of today's day in age that can make any kind of comparison.
But nothing compares to Led Zeppelin. Nothing in a million years could ever equal their combination of sex, the occult, and literature as that band had. Who else do you know is that popular having written songs about The Lord of the Rings; Kashmir, India; and Vikings? No Quarter being, in my opinion, the best song they have ever done. One of my favorite songs ever.
Ahh, but nothing that I write can give them any justice, so I leave that for the Rock Journalists that could do a far better job then I.
And so I leave you all . . . to your own music. To your own personal soundtracks and your own inspirations, for while I listen to mine -- I could create worlds.
The vocals of CSN & Y as well as America reminds me of the fantasy movies I watched as a kid, America being the actual band that did much of the soundtrack to The Last Unicorn. It reminds me of rich watercolor paintings done in earth tones. Like the art of Brian Froud. Gnomes spilling out of tree bark, dancing to the poems of W.B. Yeates. False parades of Robin and his Merry Men as he walks in a wedding precession with the maid Marion.
It's the smell of damp soil. Of that rich, luscious earthy smell of decaying leaves and mushrooms.
But then again, it is the Harpy with the large sagging breasts and the Red Bull. It is the large, green sludge of a swamp hag from Legend as she lurks to find a young human boy to eat, and the demented froglike Gollum in the first animation of The Hobbit. It is as much of the gruesome things as it is the beautiful ones. It is the faery child that lures the neighborhood children to the lake so she might drown them.
Its music to dance to like nobody is watching.
It's Rhiannon as she rides her mare bearback through wales from the desperate cries of Llew.
Yes, my name is Stevie. The name of the very musician that wrote such hippie music herself although I can not play a note on my own. I'd like to think it is in my blood somehow. Pulsing through my veins like an electric current. The powerful, masculine wail of the electric guitar as Page rocks on to Stairway, or the sweet yet comical melody of Trees as Geddy Lee sings of Maples and Oaks.
To be totally serious yet funny at the same time: the only song I know of that comes close to that feeling I get when I listen to that music would be Tenacious D's Tribute. Strange, I know . . . but it just oozes classic rock like you wouldn't believe . . . maybe its the addition of demon's into the lyrics, lol -- but it is the only song of today's day in age that can make any kind of comparison.
But nothing compares to Led Zeppelin. Nothing in a million years could ever equal their combination of sex, the occult, and literature as that band had. Who else do you know is that popular having written songs about The Lord of the Rings; Kashmir, India; and Vikings? No Quarter being, in my opinion, the best song they have ever done. One of my favorite songs ever.
Ahh, but nothing that I write can give them any justice, so I leave that for the Rock Journalists that could do a far better job then I.
And so I leave you all . . . to your own music. To your own personal soundtracks and your own inspirations, for while I listen to mine -- I could create worlds.