In Memory of SRV

I hear a blues riff in the still of the night.
Is that you little boy blues?
Your cross was found on some faraway hill,
They say where wild flowers grow.
Are you up there somewhere playing your blues?
Oh lord I think I know ...

by Joe Boy Cook




In Memory of SRV

Stevie Ray, little brother to Jimmy Vaughan,
Of the Texas band,The Fabulous Thunderbirds,
Studied his brother and became a legend.

Like Icarus, he rose to great heights and then
He fell, like a rock, from the midnight blue sky
And now, in plaintive tones, The Sky is Crying.

He gave his all, until his fingers bled, then
He played some more. This was the era known for
Sex, drugs, rock and roll and living to excess.

Fueled by Crown Royal and Peruvian Flake
Cocaine and possessed by the spirit of
The Voodoo Chile, his idol, Jimi Hendricks.

Favorite guitar was First Wife or Number One.
He could only focus with guitar in hand --
He lived with it, slept with it, made love to it.

When asked about his style, his explanation,
“Heavy gauge strings, tune low, play hard and floor it.”
No one could overtake him. He was the best.

Just short of four years clean and sober he preached
"Hugs not Drugs" and lead others to recovery.
"Healing was part of the power of music."

A helicopter crash in 1990
Took his life. His legacy is the sound of
Scorching, take no prisoners, rock and roll guitar.

When, for the first time, I heard Tin Pan Alley
I felt like the breath had been kicked out of me.
This was raw, primal, gut-wrenching emotion.

A great, gaping void is left in his absence.
In memory, I say to him, with sadness,
"Wherever you are, rave on, Stevie Ray Vaughan."