Henry the Human Fly

Rick - RIP

I had a dear old friend, Rick, who, back in the day, faced with “Clapton is God” plastered everywhere, coined a simple stalwart phrase:

”No one can cut Jeff Beck.”

Any long winded, drug fueled, battle of the axe wielders taking place in any of your garden variety black light lit, incense filled basements, would always end in great frustration for some stoned afficianado or another as Rick, always wearing a smile, would cheerfully wait for his moment, and declare:

”No one can cut Jeff Beck.”

I think there were more than a few compelling arguments in favor of Rick’s postulate, though at the time it seemed that Jimi Hendrix had been eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner on that Strat and while Mr. Beck truly was the ultimate prototype shredder, no one moved around an electric guitar with greater ease and intuition than Mr. Bold as Love.

Anyway, this isn’t intended to be one of my long winded entries. We went to the Kent Stage Sunday night in Kent Ohio, and saw a guy play an acoustic guitar and sing for an entire evening. I’ve seen this fellow three times now. The first, a little over 25 years ago in Poughkeepsie, NY at a club that burned down a few years later. He was playing his last tour with his wife, having broken up just as they were hitting the road. Stunning and stunningly sad.

I then saw him about 3 years ago at a club in Cleveland that also, I believe, ceased to exist. This was with a band, playing mostly electric.

Three times now, and I can only write - and of course, you know how predictable I am:

Richard Thompson is very possibly the best guitarist in the world. You can argue in favor of someone else, but I really, truly, believe, chances are you'd be wrong here.

And back in high school, the first time Rick took me over to his house, he had a Fender stack in his room, a Gibson SG, and he stood there windmilling. No Les Paul? No black tee?
Hmmmmm. No one can cut....?

Take it from me:

"No one can cut Richard Thompson."