Monday night I saw a double at the Luna Cinema in Leederville, two films in the Blues Project series – one by Martin Scorcese, second by Wim Winders. I liked ‘em both, but thought the Scorcese one actually let the marterial have its own say where Winders seemed to impose an outside aesthetic on the material – interviews, stock footage, contemporary concert footage, etc.
Tuesday, while babysitting my granddaughter, I switched on TV to watch the Melbourne Cup … ‘the race that stops the nation’.
And now I’m listening to Cassandra Wilson’s Blue Light Til Dawn CD, with her remarkable interpretation of Robert Johnson’s Come On In My kitchen and Hellhound On My Trail.
So, horse racing, blues and film culture, blues revamped … My head is an alphabet soup of these thoughts and responses, peppered by my other writing. How to express it to you? A quote may do the trick – This did appear in one of the movies – From Son House:
Well, I’m
going to the racetrack to see my
pony run
He ain’t the best in the world, but he’s a running
son of a gun
I’m going to the racetrack
to see my
pony run
He ain’t the best in the world,
but he’s a running
son of a gun
From My Black Moma by Son House, as transcribed in The Blues Line, compiled by Eric Sackheim with illustrations by Jonathon Shahn (Grossman Publishers 1969)
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