in the last few days i've avidly gobbled up jimi hendrix's biography room full of mirrors, as well as obsessively playing his catalog on repeat. it's a wonderful thang when it all connects...when you're finally at that place in your life where you can go "ohhhh...that's why this artist is so legendary!" i like to front like i've been into all these musical icons since i was 5, but quite honestly i was all about fraggle rock and disney soundtracks until middle school. it wasn't really until college that i started expanding my musical library past puff daddy and mase. in a dorm and with not much to do, i found the rare opportunity to get into all these people i never got around to peeping before. some were for stupid, random reasons...i started listening to miles davis because i was going to school in davis...haaaaaaaaayyyyy! sade because i joined one of those columbia house cd clubs which allowed me to cop every sade album, which i swore i could use to woo the hotties. bjork and marley both in random occasions in which i was blazed out of my mind and came to epiphanies as to why their music sums up absolutely everything in existence, ever.

so yes, jimi's finally got me. perhaps what interested me most in reading about him (and many other artists, i suppose) was learning what he was doing when he was my age. i've become somewhat obsessive with "finding out what great artists were doing at my age," even though i shouldn't be pitting my legacy in a race with my biological clock. i'm sure there's something immensely fucked up about that. regardless, i can't help but pay attention. in what may be a rash conclusion, i've decided that i want to be just like him. ok, well minus the excessive drug use, manic depression, and eventual o.d....but you get the point.

so when he was around my age, jimi (then unknown) was flown to london where, within the first 24 hours, he rocked a gig and found a girlfriend. with an utter burst of revitalization, i decided today that i would do just that, upon coming back to the bay from ny. the first part was easy...i landed at 7:30 and by 9:30 me and nico were at poleng lounge in sf. did a tv interview and knocked out what i must say was a great show! eff what ya heard, doing spoken word at a club is hard no matter what. believe it or not, some people don't want poetry in the background while they're trying to spit game to someone over their long island ice teas. but there's also that overwhelming satisfaction of silencing a tipsy crowd with just your mouth and a mic.

but yeah, whatever. my mission, ultimately, was a failure. i did not pull me an electric lady. drizzle is still girlfriend-less. alas, even if the internet was around during hendrix's hayday, i'm pretty sure he'd still be doing something way more mackalicious late at night than blogging. i blame my falling short of jimi's romantic escapades on 1) lack of guitar 2) lack of mustache and afro 3) lack of hippie chicks tripping on LSD and obsessed with free love.

so while i wait on my time machine to 1978 to be completed, i'll have to rely on some hopeful charm, and my shipment of planet earth to come ASAP.



i feel you, brotha bird, i feel you.