Monday, August 11, 2008

Room Full of Mirrors: A Biography of Jimi Hendrix

Funny how my commute takes me across the Tappan Zee Bridge twice a day - there was a time when crossing the Hudson marked a transition from suburban Westchester to 'upstate' which to me represents more a state of mind than place. A significant benefit of the daily ride has been the addition of recorded books to my life - and I will try to tie together a Hudson crossing from 1969 with Charles Cross's excellent 2005 biography of Jimi Hendrix, Room Full of Mirrors, now available as an audio dvd.

"You can leave if you want to. I'm just jammin'."

My ride is about 30 minutes - there are 11 CDs in the package. I find myself fascinated by the story of this man's life. As I drive and listen, I recall three Hendrix previous encounters. First, in the mid-60's I was (I almost said 'student' at, but that's another story) attending the University of Rhode Island. The Isley Brothers played a dance at the student union and I recall a young guitarist who spent the break between sets sitting on the edge of the stage playing his guitar. Several of us, musicians and members of the URI Marching Band, were huddled close, intrigued by this guy's playing. Back-up for various R&B groups gave Hendrix his professional start and he toured with so many bands that Cross was unable to identify them all for his book. But the carefully researched book verified that Hendrix was in fact touring with the Isley's at this time. We didn't know his name, but I am convinced that this was a young Jimi Hendrix. If any further proof was needed, some years later I discovered an Isley Brothers 'remix' featuring Jimi Hendrix in the remainder LPs at Brentano's in White Plains.

My second Hendrix experience was Woodstock, promoted as three days of peace and music. Hendrix was topping the bill, expected to perform the finale on Sunday night. Solo-crossing the Hudson Friday afternoon, after a later than hoped for departure due to work, I was filled with the anticipation that only being West of the Hudson brings. Somewhere east of White Lake, afternoon traffic ground to a halt and I ditched the car at a motel and joined the parade on Rt 17B towards the festival site at Bethel. Many, many hours later, after having spent a wet night in a church yard, I went to rendezvous with my friends near the stage. Ha! The fences were down, it was a free concert and there was scant food, water, or facilities. It was at least 24 hours until Hendrix scheduled appearance Sunday night - I staked out my place on the hillside and enjoyed the Saturday show - from Quill's opening act until the Jefferson Airplane at daybreak on Sunday. Tired, hungry, and dehydrated, I spent Sunday morning strolling the site, half-heartedly looking for my friends from home. While I never found them, I had some success with a beltmaker, swapping two cans of warm Rheingold for a ring-buckle leather belt. I left the site right after that, hiked out to the car. I was back at work Monday morning about the same time that Jimi Hendrix kicked off his epic version of the Star-spangled Banner.

It would be another year before my next Hendrix encounter. Traveling the next summer with a girl that I met the day after Woodstock, we headed south to the Atlanta Pop Festival, we arrived on the 4th of July, 1970. The draw was Hendrix, now at the pinnacle of his fame and career. He'd been selling-out major stadiums across the country, amazing crowds with his astonishing guitar work that included playing with his teeth, behind his back, and his embrace of wah-wah and the electronic manipulation of sound. He was also deep in the embrace of an ever-changing coterie of rock n' roll groupies and a wide range of pharmaceuticals and booze. My friend and I spent the day at the festival site, reveling in the warm day and music. Returning late in the afternoon to the pecan grove where we were camped, we ate, argued, and fell asleep. Only to be awakened at midnight to the familiar strains of the National Anthem as only Hendrix could play it and the sound of fireworks. That September Jimi Hendrix was found dead in a London Hotel room.

My trip is different now - back and forth each day across the Hudson, headed not 'upstate' but to the more mundane world of work. But ensconced in my rolling CD-player, with an entire library's collection from which to choose my riders, I reflect sometimes on just what a strange trip it's been.

Check out Cross's Room Full of Mirrors in print or on CD at the Orangeburg Library.

2 comments:

Obrarian said...

I'm retired now so no longer get my daily dose of Audio Books or progress reports on the NEW Tappan Zee Bridge, currently under construction.

Obrarian said...

It's August 15, 2017. Perhaps this is becoming an annual visit. I notice that the kinks are dead and decayed but you get the point.

My commute is much shorter - Rye to Hawthorne NY where i work P/T supporting the local Boy Scout Council. Still an avid audio book listener.

gotta get back to the garden. i'd update the links but I don't even know if I can dind teh password. Here's fresh Hendrix link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKAwPA14Ni4