“I went around showing people songs that were right there in front of them all of the time,” he said.
He didn’t want to talk much about himself but he was excited to talk about his music.
“Some ways a song just lives in a particular instrument,” he said. “When I got my guitar songs were already in it, it just took me a while to find them. For a while I thought I had found some bad songs. I don’t think so now. There’s no such thing as a bad song.”
He played his songs for me then in that dingy little boarding house room. It was right by the railroad tracks. A train came through. I remember it shaking the house.
I recorded him on my little Sony. Two tapes, maybe forty songs, maybe more.
I don’t know how many songs he played because when I got back to my hotel room and listened the tapes were both blank.
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