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Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Review:  Keith Richards Documentary on Netflix


Every time Keef, in this recent nicely produced documentary, makes a joke that is not funny but no one but him, yet laughs his snuffly little laugh anyway, I want to punch him, very hard right in his face. Then there,s the times he,s bragging about stuff which isn,t true (like reviving blues for Americans, for being the king of R&R et cetera et cetera...), I want to punch him again, even harder. Then there,s Keef in the studio wiv ´is mates yeah, and well, they suck- they play badly and they sing even worse. Steve Jordan and Keef cant play reggae, and neither could the Stones, Waddy Wachtel seriously is Nosferatu with a Les Paul, and someone explain or enIighten me please, I could never understand the cult of Waddy or g. e. smith or Danny Kootch Kortchmar or any of those soft rock guitar slingers for that matter, and also embarrassing was Keefs gay man crush on the overrated graham Parsons as well as ANY authentic AMERICAN musician, black or white who gave him 5 minutes, who were the creators of a musical generation and not just pale imitators like he and Mick were.
I could feel recently deceased Gregory Isaacs spinning like a top in his grave as Keef warbled Isaacs hit Love is Overdue, and the borderline racist definitely condescending stupid jokes to the Jamaican horn section dragged in to lend some authenticity, and boy as a white man I was embarrassed.
I also lost respect for Tom Waits just for admitting he was Keefs pal.

Lastly I am so sick of overpaid pop stars and their ability to own VAST numbers of guitars that they A) never, ever played and B) forgotten they even own and C) They are able to afford a full time guitar concierge to change their strings and Pledge off the sweat, beer, and pizza sauce on their vast catalogue of HUNDREDS of guitars.

PS  Macgregor, remember the Clapton show you were nice enough to invite me along to @ Madison Sq garden?   It dawned on me that it was like Blues Beatlemania, a tribute act, the very best Cover Band ever, right down to EC having the proper guitar for each number and each artiste. Astounding but it had almost nothing to do with blues shows Id attended previously.
The English are the Japanese of Europe. They don,t create much but they study the excrement out of something and then reproduce it impressively, and of course claim they do it better.

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