[demonrail666]

Originally Posted by atari 2600

This thread is filled with Hendrix-bashing.

Not liking someone quite as much as you do hardly qualifies as 'bashing'.

[atari 2600]

typical irreverence

that's it

keep the lie going

keep going back to what you think your strong point may be

typical ignorance

[!@#$%!]

Originally Posted by atari 2600

typical irreverence

 

[demonrail666]

Originally Posted by atari 2600

typical irreverence

Prat

[!@#$%!]

 

[!@#$%!]

You must know, then, that the above-named gentleman whenever he
was at leisure (which was mostly all the year round) gave himself up
to reading books of chivalry with such ardour and avidity that he
almost entirely neglected the pursuit of his field-sports, and even
the management of his property; and to such a pitch did his
eagerness and infatuation go that he sold many an acre of
tillageland to buy books of chivalry to read, and brought home as many
of them as he could get. But of all there were none he liked so well
as those of the famous Feliciano de Silva's composition, for their
lucidity of style and complicated conceits were as pearls in his
sight, particularly when in his reading he came upon courtships and
cartels, where he often found passages like "the reason of the
unreason with which my reason is afflicted so weakens my reason that
with reason I murmur at your beauty;" or again, "the high heavens,
that of your divinity divinely fortify you with the stars, render
you deserving of the desert your greatness deserves." Over conceits of
this sort the poor gentleman lost his wits, and used to lie awake
striving to understand them and worm the meaning out of them; what
Aristotle himself could not have made out or extracted had he come
to life again for that special purpose. He was not at all easy about
the wounds which Don Belianis gave and took, because it seemed to
him that, great as were the surgeons who had cured him, he must have
had his face and body covered all over with seams and scars. He
commended, however, the author's way of ending his book with the
promise of that interminable adventure, and many a time was he tempted
to take up his pen and finish it properly as is there proposed,
which no doubt he would have done, and made a successful piece of work
of it too, had not greater and more absorbing thoughts prevented him.

Many an argument did he have with the curate of his village (a
learned man, and a graduate of Siguenza) as to which had been the
better knight, Palmerin of England or Amadis of Gaul. Master Nicholas,
the village barber, however, used to say that neither of them came
up to the Knight of Phoebus, and that if there was any that could
compare with him it was Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul,
because he had a spirit that was equal to every occasion, and was no
finikin knight, nor lachrymose like his brother, while in the matter
of valour he was not a whit behind him. In short, he became so
absorbed in his books that he spent his nights from sunset to sunrise,
and his days from dawn to dark, poring over them; and what with little
sleep and much reading his brains got so dry that he lost his wits.
His fancy grew full of what he used to read about in his books,
enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, loves,
agonies, and all sorts of impossible nonsense; and it so possessed his
mind that the whole fabric of invention and fancy he read of was true,
that to him no history in the world had more reality in it. He used to
say the Cid Ruy Diaz was a very good knight, but that he was not to be
compared with the Knight of the Burning Sword who with one back-stroke
cut in half two fierce and monstrous giants. He thought more of
Bernardo del Carpio because at Roncesvalles he slew Roland in spite of
enchantments, availing himself of the artifice of Hercules when he
strangled Antaeus the son of Terra in his arms. He approved highly
of the giant Morgante, because, although of the giant breed which is
always arrogant and ill-conditioned, he alone was affable and
well-bred. But above all he admired Reinaldos of Montalban, especially
when he saw him sallying forth from his castle and robbing everyone he
met, and when beyond the seas he stole that image of Mahomet which, as
his history says, was entirely of gold. To have a bout of kicking at
that traitor of a Ganelon he would have given his housekeeper, and his
niece into the bargain.

In short, his wits being quite gone, he hit upon the strangest
notion that ever madman in this world hit upon, and that was that he
fancied it was right and requisite, as well for the support of his own
honour as for the service of his country, that he should make a
knight-errant of himself, roaming the world over in full armour and on
horseback in quest of adventures, and putting in practice himself
all that he had read of as being the usual practices of
knights-errant; righting every kind of wrong, and exposing himself
to peril and danger from which, in the issue, he was to reap eternal
renown and fame. Already the poor man saw himself crowned by the might
of his arm Emperor of Trebizond at least; and so, led away by the
intense enjoyment he found in these pleasant fancies, he set himself
forthwith to put his scheme into execution.

[demonrail666]

Don't worry Atari. You're actually quite cute when you get mad and start having tantrums.

 

[pbradley]

Wow, I'm gone for a bit and the comedy ensues.

Especially the wikipedia link the the philosophy of aesthetics as an answer to what is talent objectively. I'm sorry, but if you know anything about the philosophy of aesthetics you would know that there isn't any one objective answer. Hell, that's the very reason that it warrents a philosophy. Let me clue you in on an industry secret; philosophy only exists around issues where people know fuck all about it (theology, phenomenology, etc.) Please read the "post-modern" section of that link, particularly.

[Dead-Air]

I like Thurston and Lee better when it comes to rock electric guitar, but Jimi was certainly great in his day. Derek Bailey could arguably be considered a "better" guitarist too on the other end of things. Of course these qualitative rankings are ridiculous to begin with. Sure do love "1983, A Merman I Should Turn To Be" though...

[sonicl]

Blixa Bargeld is a considerably less technically able guitarist than Hendrix, but I'd rather listen to him any day.

[atsonicpark]

i think paul leary of the butthole surfers is more influential than jimi hendrix.

[pbradley]

^ more influential to me, at least

there's a time for drugs and there's a time to be sane and jimi hendrix makes love to marilyn's remains!!

[Rob Instigator]

Originally Posted by swa(y)

i dont know man...i always kinda thought no trend was talented....shit..even flipper.

what they lacked in ability they made up for in creativity. least, i thought/think they are creative.

and to me...thats qualifies as talent.

creativity is NOT talent
a talented carpenter is not the same as a creative carpenter.

Talent is specific to a skill. the same applies for music.

a person with talent but no creativity can still pull off a good musical performance of johnny B Goode for example.
a person with creativity but no talent cannot do the same, although he could play you a crazy make-em-up that kinda sounded like johnny b goode. it would not be the same.



everyone in sonic youth has admitted that they are NOT the most talented guitarists, but, like I said, they make up for it with inventiveness and creativity.
Jimi Hendrix had BOTH

[Rob Instigator]

Originally Posted by !@#$%!

You must know, then, that the above-named gentleman whenever he
was at leisure (which was mostly all the year round) gave himself up
to reading books of chivalry with such ardour and avidity that he
almost entirely neglected the pursuit of his field-sports, and even
the management of his property; and to such a pitch did his
eagerness and infatuation go that he sold many an acre of
tillageland to buy books of chivalry to read, and brought home as many
of them as he could get. But of all there were none he liked so well
as those of the famous Feliciano de Silva's composition, for their
lucidity of style and complicated conceits were as pearls in his
sight, particularly when in his reading he came upon courtships and
cartels, where he often found passages like "the reason of the
unreason with which my reason is afflicted so weakens my reason that
with reason I murmur at your beauty;" or again, "the high heavens,
that of your divinity divinely fortify you with the stars, render
you deserving of the desert your greatness deserves." Over conceits of
this sort the poor gentleman lost his wits, and used to lie awake
striving to understand them and worm the meaning out of them; what
Aristotle himself could not have made out or extracted had he come
to life again for that special purpose. He was not at all easy about
the wounds which Don Belianis gave and took, because it seemed to
him that, great as were the surgeons who had cured him, he must have
had his face and body covered all over with seams and scars. He
commended, however, the author's way of ending his book with the
promise of that interminable adventure, and many a time was he tempted
to take up his pen and finish it properly as is there proposed,
which no doubt he would have done, and made a successful piece of work
of it too, had not greater and more absorbing thoughts prevented him.

Many an argument did he have with the curate of his village (a
learned man, and a graduate of Siguenza) as to which had been the
better knight, Palmerin of England or Amadis of Gaul. Master Nicholas,
the village barber, however, used to say that neither of them came
up to the Knight of Phoebus, and that if there was any that could
compare with him it was Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul,
because he had a spirit that was equal to every occasion, and was no
finikin knight, nor lachrymose like his brother, while in the matter
of valour he was not a whit behind him. In short, he became so
absorbed in his books that he spent his nights from sunset to sunrise,
and his days from dawn to dark, poring over them; and what with little
sleep and much reading his brains got so dry that he lost his wits.
His fancy grew full of what he used to read about in his books,
enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, loves,
agonies, and all sorts of impossible nonsense; and it so possessed his
mind that the whole fabric of invention and fancy he read of was true,
that to him no history in the world had more reality in it. He used to
say the Cid Ruy Diaz was a very good knight, but that he was not to be
compared with the Knight of the Burning Sword who with one back-stroke
cut in half two fierce and monstrous giants. He thought more of
Bernardo del Carpio because at Roncesvalles he slew Roland in spite of
enchantments, availing himself of the artifice of Hercules when he
strangled Antaeus the son of Terra in his arms. He approved highly
of the giant Morgante, because, although of the giant breed which is
always arrogant and ill-conditioned, he alone was affable and
well-bred. But above all he admired Reinaldos of Montalban, especially
when he saw him sallying forth from his castle and robbing everyone he
met, and when beyond the seas he stole that image of Mahomet which, as
his history says, was entirely of gold. To have a bout of kicking at
that traitor of a Ganelon he would have given his housekeeper, and his
niece into the bargain.

In short, his wits being quite gone, he hit upon the strangest
notion that ever madman in this world hit upon, and that was that he
fancied it was right and requisite, as well for the support of his own
honour as for the service of his country, that he should make a
knight-errant of himself, roaming the world over in full armour and on
horseback in quest of adventures, and putting in practice himself
all that he had read of as being the usual practices of
knights-errant; righting every kind of wrong, and exposing himself
to peril and danger from which, in the issue, he was to reap eternal
renown and fame. Already the poor man saw himself crowned by the might
of his arm Emperor of Trebizond at least; and so, led away by the
intense enjoyment he found in these pleasant fancies, he set himself
forthwith to put his scheme into execution.

I Love Don Quixote!

[Rob Instigator]

Originally Posted by atsonicpark

i think paul leary of the butthole surfers is more influential than jimi hendrix.

sorry, but this is just plain IGNORANT

and i LOVE the buttholes.

[atsonicpark]

...it was a joke. i was joking.

though i do enjoy listening to paul leary more.

[SuchFriendsAreDangerous]

Originally Posted by Rob Instigator

creativity is NOT talent
a talented carpenter is not the same as a creative carpenter.

Talent is specific to a skill. the same applies for music.

a person with talent but no creativity can still pull off a good musical performance of johnny B Goode for example.
a person with creativity but no talent cannot do the same, although he could play you a crazy make-em-up that kinda sounded like johnny b goode. it would not be the same.



everyone in sonic youth has admitted that they are NOT the most talented guitarists, but, like I said, they make up for it with inventiveness and creativity.
Jimi Hendrix had BOTH

amen, amen. igzio tesahalane (lord have mercy!)

[Rob Instigator]

Originally Posted by atsonicpark

...it was a joke. i was joking.

though i do enjoy listening to paul leary more.

you got me!

[demonrail666]

let's replace the words creativity and talent with ideas and technical ability. I believe that I have great musical ideas, but lack the technical ability to put them into action. This isn't because I lack the technical ability of someone like Hendrix because the ideas I have wouldn't require me to play like him anyway. My lack of technical ability stems only from the fact that I am unable to perform these ideas in a way that does justice to the idea itself.

The complexity of the idea determines the level of technical ability required to achieve it. But not all great ideas are particularly complex, and so complex technical ability is no barometer of greatness. Proof being someone like Yngwie Malmsteen.

Jimi Hendrix was great because his ideas were great and his playing matched the idea.
By the logic of my argument though, the same could be said of Dee Dee Ramone or Blixa Bargeld.

This isn't to say that someone who has an idea to just thrash about on a guitar is great simply because they have the technical ability to do so. The idea itself is crap, so they as guitarists will never progress beyond crapness.

[Rob Instigator]

demonrail

talent is not equivalent to technical ability.

talent is a measure of how much you innately posses, thereby suggesting you would eventually, with practice, gain high technical expertise.

no matter how much practice someone without talent does, they will never have the potential for ability that someone with TALENT has.

jimi was stringing homemade guitars with wire and rubber bands, boxes and sticks, and playing tunes on them to his mother when he was younger than 5 years old, because of TALENT.

Mozart was writing music from his head at age 7, because of TALENT.