the real blues purists

1961
Blues aficionados in the '60s were a sight to behold.  They met in little gatherings like early Christians, but in the front rooms in southeast London. ----------------- [excerpt, Keith Richards autobiography] ---------------- There was nothing else necessarily in common amongst them at all; they were all different ages and occupations.  It was funny to walk into a room where nothing else mattered except he's playing the new Slim Harpo and that was enough to bond you all together.

There was a lot of talk of  matrix numbers. 

There would be these muttered conversations about whether you had the bit of shellac that was from the original pressing from the original company. 

Later on, everybody would argue about it. 

Mick and I were smirking at each other across the room, because we were only there to find out a bit more about this new collection of records that had just arrived that we'd heard about.  The real magnet was "Hell, I'd love to be able to play like that."  But the people you have a meet to get the latest Little Milton record! 

The real blues purists were very stuffy and conservative, full of disapproval, nerds with glasses deciding what's really blues and what ain't.  I mean, these cats know?  They're sitting in the middle of Bexleyheath in London on a cold and rainy day, "Diggin' My Potatoes" . . . Half of the songs they're listening to, they have no idea of what they are about....They have their idea of what the blues are....For better or worse it was their passion.

And it certainly was mine too, but I wasn't prepared to discuss it.  I wouldn't argue about it; I would just say, "Can I get a copy?  I know how they're playing it, but I just need to check."  That's what we lived for, basically....getting a chance to hear the new B.B. King or Muddy Waters.

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{Life - Keith Richards with James Fox - Little Brown - 2010}

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