Posted in: Musicouching by NYRETT on September 27th, 2009 | 0 Comments
Kindness is confused for weakness. Compassion confused for stupidity.
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Long ago, (back in the 60’s) I fell in love with a song writer, by the name of Biff Rose. From time to time he was able to be seen on TV shows like, Smothers Brothers on CBS, and Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show on NBC. Biff was a breath of fresh air in, what was changing into a less uptight society.
The Exodus was in full swing to Watts, and the Kent State Riot (1970) had not yet, brought shame to our Nation, and we all (those under 30) really believed that the Country would take on a more peaceful attitude and kindness toward each other. It was during this time that Biff surfaced at “The Bitter End”, a club in The City. (you know the City, NYC)
Biff (Paul Rose) came to the City from New Orleans and had a feel, sound, and vibrence, that had not yet been experienced by long haired, hippie, freaks. He was funny, talented, energetic, and controversial. He had balls, and that’s why most of us, from the City followed him so closely.
Pounding on the piano, smiling broadly, (sometimes, laughing) he rekindled the sense of Vaudeville, honky tonk, and blues all at the same time. He was a joy to hear, watch, and experience. Tickling the ivories, his fans, and himself, he enjoyed every moment that he gave us, usually stoned, but none the less, talented and entertaining.
“Buzz the Fuzz” was one of the first songs learned to love. About the Pusher (a Cop) on the Police Force, who fell in love with “Alice D. Head” (a Bad Trip). Biff told us how it was and how it was going to be, here in Utopia. I loved him for his honesty and insight into life and into what it could become.
One of the most eye opening songs, for me, that he wrote was “Color Blind Blues”, where he applied colors to all the Civil Concerns. “The Civil Rights movement is for people who are brown. The Communist movement is for people who are red. There’s some whites hanging around, and the VietNamiese are yellow, so it’s said. I got the Blues, I got the colored blind blues.” “Black Power, White Power, Green Power, Purple, thanks a lot. At the end of the rainbow, I just know there’s a pot, and I hear it’s gold.” We believed that with the passing of time, the hatred, fear, and differences would fade away and we would all come together as one.
