Thursday, January 12, 2023

R.I.P. Jeff Beck



When a person's death in announced as a hoax, it usually means that someone jumped the gun and that the real announcement isn't far behind. Pattie Boyd tweeted about El Becko's death yesterday, before she retracted herself and said it was a hoax. Unfortunately, it turned out to be premature by just one day...

What can we say about Jeff Beck, now? Perhaps in the next few days I'll have time to reflect on what his music has meant to me. Perhaps I'll find appropriate turns of phrase and relevant words to convey what he meant to music as a whole. It's a bit too new, and a bit too sudden so right now I can't really put words on it.

He was my favorite guitarist. Before Jimi, before Clapton. He was the ultimate guitar player. He had DiMeola's precision, McLaughlin's velocity, Hendrix' creativity, Clapton's emotivity, Gilmour's sense of phrasing, Zappa's zaniness... Yet he was unique. His phrasing, his tone, his approach to the guitar (which he changed several times)... There was no one quite like him. I saw him live eight times, last time as recently as six months ago.

The man was 78, and dying at that age after decades of unbridled creativity and a life lived to the fullest isn't a tragedy. But then why is there a hole?














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