I remember the first time I picked up an electric guitar, cradled it in my lap, strummed the strings, fingered the fret, and clumsily attempted to play some simple chords. Actually, it was a friends guitar. It was red and white. He was looking to sell it. I watched him play this old piece called "The Little Black Egg", a popular song by the Nightcrawlers. He plucked the strings and moved his fingers across the fret. It was magical. He showed me his fingers. He had developed grooves on the tips of his fingers, a desired result from the many hours of play needed to perfect his skills. I was sold.
"The Little Black Egg" was the first song I wanted to learn. I envisioned brightly lit stages and screaming, adoring fans. I was seventeen and it was the 60's. Vietnam broke hearts and bodies. Society was in an uproar. The British invasion was underway and the Beatles ruled the day. The Doors sang, "Girl, we couldn't get much higher." Rock was the salve that soothed the wounds or the stick that stirred the pot, depending how you want to remember it, but my aspirations of playing in a band faded. Other interests had muted the music. I also loved to play sports.
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alto sax |
When I turned twenty-one, I began to work for a company that made brass line musical intruments. Assembling and tuning saxaphones became my expertise. The saxaphone is the most complicated of the brass instruments, requiring the most parts to bring it to completion. I loved the rich, powerful and vocal sound it produced. I was asked on numerous occassions what seemed to be a logical question to many of my acquaintances, "Do you play the sax?" In the ten years I spent making the instrument that makes the music, I didn't take the time to perfect the skill for playing it. My oldest son became the sax player. It was the 70's. The Flower Children sang for love and peace. Kent State mourned their fallen students. The Eagles sang about "Life in the Fast Lane."
I then began to build trumpets, which I did for a short time, and no, I didn't become a trumpet player. My youngest son became the trumpet player. For the remainder of my years working for King Musical, that became United Musical, that became Conn-Selmer, I made pistons for all the instruments that had a valve. Many of them went into instruments played by famous musicians in big city symphanies and marching bands from all over the country. I estimated to have made close to 1,900,000 pistons in those thirteen years.
My story doesn't end there. On a lighter side, in my early thirties, my oldest daughter took up the piano. I accompanied my daughter on her lessons. It was during this time I decided to teach myself on the piano. My daughter took lessons at a mall store that sold pianos and keyboards. So, while she was taking lessons I would play around on the pianos. This practice however, of playing in the store while she took lessons, became a source of discomfort for my daughter. Apparently, her teacher would hear me pounding on the pianos and would make mention of my unknown-to-me indesretion. She would say something like, "Your Father is at it again." Children can be sensitive about such things. A few years later an opportunity to play keyboards with a band materialized, but once again, other interests prevailed.
All total I worked 35 years making the instruments that make the music, and then I retired. Like society, rock music has morphed in so many ways. Music has always been an integral part of my journey. Other interests may have overshadowed it at times, but the passion has never been exstinguished. In recent times, I have taken up the keyboards once again and I still recall the old song, "The Little Black Egg", with fondness. Aspirations of playing in a band still remains a viable possibilty. You should never give up on your dreams. Visions of brightly lit stages and screaming, adoring fans, only in my wildest imaginations. But that isn't what it is all about, aspirations and adoration. It is all about the music.
Before I came to Charleston, I had not heard of the name Eddie Bush. Since my arrival in Charleston, near seven years ago, I have researched and consumed every bit of information I could gather to learn about the place I have come to love and now call my home. I started a blog to share my discoveries with family and friends and to inform my readers of upcoming events. I came to learn the name Eddie Bush is as well known in the Charleston area as Rainbow Row and the Battery. So, I did what I do. I researched his bio and began to follow his engagements throughout the Lowcountry. Eddie picked up a guitar at age four and from that moment on his path was set in stone, no other possible distractions had a chance to prevail. He has a strong base of committed and loyal followers. I have seen Eddie perform. I have become a believer.
Eddie is a person who has truly found his calling. Yes, he has loyal, adoring fans. It's the subsequent byproduct of a great performer. But he doesn't do it for the applause or adoration, he does it because it's all about the music. When on stage, he breathes charm, sweats passion, and bleeds guitar. His vocals are powerful, his songs inspiring. "The Thin Blue Line" is a masterpiece. I recently had the privilege of meeting Eddie. He is a class "A" performer. You can get the whole story at
eddiebush.com.
Eddie Bush & the Mayhem at Wild Wing Columbia, SC (Vista) 4/6/12
Eddie Bush & the Mayhem @ King Street Grill - Northwoods: 4/7/12
Eddie Bush & the Mayhem at Wild Wing Charlotte, NC 4/14/12
Eddie Bush & The Mayhem: Southern Flame Festival 4/21/12