”The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it.” Charles Bukowski

Recently I had dinner at a local restaurant/music venue. I can’t remember the name of the band. The music was clean, tame and well, dare I say it, muskrat love-ish. Some of their offerings were a little bluesy and at the same time, very civil. The musicians were dressed as though they were headed to Sunday school. Their musicianship was exemplary. As a rock musician who pays attention I must say that they never missed a single note. Very impressive. I left feeling like I had been sterilized. Sort of a soul vacuum. What was missing in their musical act is the subject of this blog.

I was born an outlaw, a skeptic and at times an all out nihilist. I reside in the world of Blues/Rock musicians because, after all, that is where such characters in the music world reside. In order to penetrate a listening audience who are true fans of the Blues/Rock genre a band must be believable. They must have soul. Let’s call it the “it” factor. I’ll be the first to admit that there have been music artists out there that have enjoyed commercial success who aren’t the least bit believable. No soul connection whatsoever.

e.g. Kenny Wayne Shepherd , Joe Bonamassa, The Monkeys, Vanilla Ice, Billy Ray Cyrus

What’s missing from such performers is that soul, along with the “it” factor along with an aura of nonconformity. Stevie Ray Vaughan had “it”. His artistry penetrated the soul. When he stood there channeling his music you immediately believed it. Vaughn came from relative poverty, from the blight of Oak Cliff in Dallas, from the wrong side of the track. Though technically amazing, artists such as Kenny Wayne Shepherd seem unable to channel blues, heartache, joy, suffering, celebration, or gritty realism with any believability. These are the essential elements of an original, came out of nowhere, believable artist in the blues/rock genre. Kenny Wayne emerged as a coddled, upper middle class soccer league child, born of innocence with little, or no, believability. Along with it, a critical lack of non-conformity and soul. It’s not his fault that he isn’t Freddie King.

Back in the fifties the “beatniks” along with the rock musicians of that era defined a generation of non-conformists. Their views and style of dress, according to Webster, were, “pointedly unconventional.” Out of this movement came an expression, “real gone cats” used to describe these beatniks, musicians and the simultaneous emergence of rock and roll or more specifically, “rockabilly” music.” Collectively these characters dominated the pop culture of that time. The prevailing sentiment became that of kicking back, relaxing(in manner of dress and attitude) and enjoying the musical offerings of these non-conformist miscreants. It came to dominate the American zeitgeist. Dwelling within this movement was a special kind of magic that drew people in. If only for a moment these people wanted to be non-conformist and well, bad. Somehow it penetrated their soul. There was a proclivity for the “it” factor in the overwhelming majority of these acts. It was magnetic.

If the legendary blues icon, B B King, had ever entered a guitar playing contest, competing with the world’s greatest guitarists, he wouldn’t have even placed. But B B made you feel it without the technically fancy guitar licks. His distinguishing factor was this—-he was a free soul—-and it, “it”, came through.
🎶 The Thrill Is Gone, the thrill is gone away🎶. We all know what he was talking about don’t we? But it took B B to convey that to us in a way that penetrated.

I play in a band, The Bossier City Torpedos, that is rife with rawness and imperfection but at times a shimmering frisson of soul connection. We miss notes occasionally and start off in the wrong key. But we have a loyal and faithful following who call themselves Torpedo Heads. I feel the connection in the midst of our performances, but I can’t adequately explain it. Perhaps there is a free soul in there somewhere. You know it when you see it.