We start our lives with blues . . . with music. It's our first language. It's the rhythm of the womb. It's your mama's heartbeat inside your head.
Now listen for your song. Everybody’s got a song. When I used to chase the Trane— John Coltrane that is— he used to tell me, ‘If I know a man’s sound, I know the man.’ Do you hear the melody playing in your mind? Does it move you, nudge you off your seat?
The music plays . . . and your sense of reality is heightened to a dream.
You got infinite channels and limitless rhymes, but the riddles of livin' stay undefined?
The music echoes in the emptiness. It reminds us where we came from and where we’re bound.
And here's to the blues, the real blues— where there's a hint of hope in every cry of desperation.