Remember those boys in high school, the ones taking shop, more interested in guitars and engines than academics? The skinny guys wearing black concert t-shirts, hanging out behind the gym before school smoking a joint, partying in the woods with a keg, spending more time skipping than in class? Long hair, bad reputations, some of them smart as hell with a couldn’t give a shit attitude? They were the quiet ones, never picking fights but somehow in the middle of too many. Remember? Long, tan limbs casually holding outsider girls, a pack of marlboros shoved in their front pocket, silver zippo at hand coolly striding down the halls? They lived in the crappiest house on the block, maybe with a big brother that had no problem strapping up your arm, flicking the vein a couple of times and loading you up with meth on some Tuesday afternoon just for kicks. Mothers never home, dads long time gone, they raised themselves and left the neighborhood early. Remember those guys?
I do. I remember those talented beautiful boys. Some of them made good.
Wow. Whitley is new-to-me but won’t remain that way for long. I can’t believe he’s been around since ‘91 and I haven’t heard him until today. Thanks.
Well, he’s dead now. But oh my, did he make some fine music. I really love his Dirt Floor album.