Innan jag blev avbruten av den magnifika Neil Young konserten höll jag på att fösöka sammanfatta mina intryck från Urkultfestivalen så jag fortsätter väl lite på den bogen.
Fredagen var programmet lite tunnare, något uppträdande skriver jag om på Vodkabeat(det blir lite rörigt ibland att ha två bloggar, men är man väderstrecksanpassad så är man)men på lördagen brakade det loss igen. Glesbygd'n är norrländska storheter som jag inte hört tidigare men de visade sig spela cool svensk reggae med en norrländs touch(tyvärr hittade jag ingen video som gör dem rättvisa).
Men framför allt väntade jag på Richard Thompson som jag lyssnat på sedan yngre bronsåldern. Äntligen. Det var länge sedan jag såg denne underbare artist som allt för få känner till. Självklart innfann sig gåshuden. All kroppsbehåring ställde sig rakt ut och tårarna började rinna. Så mogen är jag.Och jag blev inte besviken. Herr Thompson verkade vara på sitt bästa humör. Han slängde käft med publiken, spetsade sitt framträdande med brittisk humor och log pillemariskt. Under bortemot två timmar hann han ge smakprov på fyra decenniers låtskrivande. En sån låtskatt, och han sjunger bättre än någonsin. Gitarrspelet......ja, här saknar jag ord. Många var de grånande herrar i främsta ledet som studerade hans teknik och många var de som skakade på huvudet. Jösses. Här spelar han I want to see the brigth ligths tonigth.
Inspelningen gjorde jag med min enkla kamera och den tekniska kvaliten lämnar mycket att önska. Men så här blev det. Han spelar med både plektrum och fingrar samtidigt och kan därför spela en basgång samtidigt som han slår ackord, under tiden kan han dessutom lägga ut melodin eller ett solo utan besvär. Vet i fa'n hur han bär sig åt.
Här finns en gammal inspelning från BBC 1991 som ger en tydligare bild av hans gitarrspel. Kanske lite mer polera än på Urkult där han verkligen tog ut svängarna och tidvis vistades i gitarrspelets yttersta utmarker....
1952 Vincent Black Ligthning
Oh says Red Molly to James "That's a fine motorbike.
A girl could feel special on any such like"
Says James to Red Molly "My hat's off to you
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Red hair and black leather, my favourite colour scheme"
And he pulled her on behind and down to Boxhill they did ride
Oh says James to Red Molly "Here's a ring for your right hand
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man.
For I've fought with the law since I was seventeen,
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine.
Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you.
And if fate should break my stride
Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride"
"Come down, come down, Red Molly" called Sergeant McRae
"For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery.
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside.
Oh come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside"
When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath
But he smiled to see her cry
He said "I'll give you my Vincent to ride"
Says James "In my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl.
Now Nortons and Indians and Greeves won't do,
Ah, they don't have a soul like a Vincent 52"
Oh he reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys
Said "I've got no further use for these.
I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome,
Swooping down from heaven to carry me home"
And he gave her one last kiss and died
And he gave her his Vincent to ride.
Äsch, jag tar med en låt till när jag ändå är igång. Bee's Wing från samma inspelning
I was nineteen when I came to town, they called it the Summer of Love
They were burning babies, burning flags. The hawks against the doves
I took a job in the steamie down on Cauldrum Street
And I fell in love with a laundry girl who was working next to me
Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, oh she was running wild
She said "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other way"
Brown hair zig-zag around her face and a look of half-surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights, there was animal in her eyes
She said "Young man, oh can't you see I'm not the factory kind
If you don't take me out of here I'll surely lose my mind"
Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So fine that I might crush her where she lay
She was a lost child, she was running wild
She said "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other way"
We busked around the market towns and picked fruit down in Kent
And we could tinker lamps and pots and knives wherever we went
And I said that we might settle down, get a few acres dug
Fire burning in the hearth and babies on the rug
She said "Oh man, you foolish man, it surely sounds like hell.
You might be lord of half the world, you'll not own me as well"
Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, oh she was running wild
She said "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other way"
We was camping down the Gower one time, the work was pretty good
She thought we shouldn't wait for the frost and I thought maybe we should
We was drinking more in those days and tempers reached a pitch
And like a fool I let her run with the rambling itch
Oh the last I heard she's sleeping rough back on the Derby beat
White Horse in her hip pocket and a wolfhound at her feet
And they say she even married once, a man named Romany Brown
But even a gypsy caravan was too much settling down
And they say her flower is faded now, hard weather and hard booze
But maybe that's just the price you pay for the chains you refuse
Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
And I miss her more than ever words could say
If I could just taste all of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
Well I wouldn't want her any other way
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