i remember seeing him play live at the Unesco in Beirut, a band of musicians totally dressed in white appeared, and with his long white hair mixed in with his beard, his voice as strong as ever, and his guitar a natural extension of himself, he shared the intimate songs that he had written in sweat, and tears and blood... and something moved deep inside me, as the wanderer in my soul recognized and greeted the wanderer in his... RIP George Moustaki