Machine Gun

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Tonight the pollen kicked in big-time - not sure which one this is - it all amounts to the same anyway: sneezing and early-morning hacking being the two main results, along with the usual accompaniments. I don't really mind too much, though, at least it reminds me I'm still alive. Also picked up some minor virus that doesn't seem to want to do much aside from make me feel vaguely uneasy and mess around with my thermostat occasionally. If it hasn't given up the ghost in a couple of days, I'll get checked over just to make sure it's nowt else.

Randomly, whilst writing this, I'm listening to 'Machine Gun' by Jimi Hendrix, live at the Fillmore East, 1970; which featured on the album 'Band of Gypsies' that year. The finest and most affecting piece of guitar art I ever heard: noise sculpture, rather than music; it reflected on war, fundamentally and viscerally, through improvised rock guitar: despite the principle structure of the piece being 'a song'; the improvisation that creates the theatre and emotional impact of the piece is, truly, made up on the spot. There are other versions, recorded on the same round of concerts, but this one is 'the one'. Genius made form, in the moment.

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