Sitting on the back porch here with coffee, smokes, sunshine and the smell of freshly cut grass without a need in my world. The desire to write a little and share some music rises, and Son Little is the next in line from the list. The Blues love my bones and Son Little rattles my marrow. If I didn’t have to work tonight, I would crack open a jar of good clear liquor and just roll down the spirit river with these blues paddling the boat.
Aaron Livingston is Son Little and comes to us from Philadelphia. The emotion comes through his voice as clear as the bubbles float to the top of one of these mountain spring water filled jars that are hollering at me to be cracked. His voice is a smooth as softened butter. A real nice find for me and I’m fairly certain that anyone loved by the Blues will find their ear’s appreciating the experience of Son Little’s creations.
A review of Son’s most recent album with AntiRecords by NPR is here.
Links to Son Little’s pages
“There is no escape. You can’t be a vagabond and an artist and still be a solid citizen, a wholesome, upstanding man. You want to get drunk, so you have to accept the hangover. You say yes to the sunlight and pure fantasies, so you have to say yes to the filth and the nausea. Everything is within you, gold and mud, happiness and pain, the laughter of childhood and the apprehension of death. Say yes to everything, shirk nothing. Don’t try to lie to yourself. You are not a solid citizen. You are not a Greek. You are not harmonious, or the master of yourself. You are a bird in the storm. Let it storm! Let it drive you! How much have you lied! A thousand times, even in your poems and books, you have played the harmonious man, the wise man, the happy, the enlightened man. In the same way, men attacking in war have played heroes, while their bowels twitched. My God, what a poor ape, what a fencer in the mirror man is- particularly the artist- particularly myself!” — Hermann Hesse