Musical paths are meandering. The point is never the arrival, always the journey. And every musician can point to at least one event, and frequently several events, that spurred that journey onward.
My first big push came from Robert Fripp. Or more accurately, his band King Crimson–whose first album I bought just because the cover looked interesting. Certainly not due to the band’s name, since there was no lettering of any sort on the album cover, front or back. Instead, it was a wraparound piece of art that looked like this when opened outward:
OK, thought my 13-year-old self, this is definitely worth taking a chance on. And I plunked down my $4.37, brought it home, and queued up Track #1 on my stereo with the green fuzzy speakers. (Shag carpeting, don’t you know.) My virgin ears were about to be treated to a little ditty called “21st Century Schizoid Man”.
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