During this morning's run I was listening to Sister Andrea, a cut from the Mahavishnu Orchestra's live Central Park recording that took place back in the early 70's and it brought to mind the vehement insistence of a broad swath of guitar afficionados who say that speed is not important when it comes to soloing--rather it is the hook and story that matters. But I was/am addicted to the breathless, electric buzz saw fingerings of the great maestro John McLaughlin, who is nothing without his blinding speed.
Still, I can see the point of his critics. The great bluesmen B.B. King and Buddy Guy and immortal rockers like Page, Hendrix, Slash, and so forth--speed was an element, but it was the beauty and logic of their musical stories that sold their artistry. But what's not thrilling about the great McLaughlin or Alvin Lee or the whole clutch of metal guys who reel off cascading notes with preternatural velocity. Well, speed, yeah!
Part of it is I'm not fast. My fingers stiffen and lock up when I try to arpeggiate too quickly. I'm more cut out for the slow blues and torchy rock. That's why I admire the speed demons, even though, back in the day, it was fashionable to sneer at the conceit of athletic fret-burning at the expense of structure and pace.
Nah, it was jealousy!
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