#michael hedges

Joseph Campbell put the zap on a lot of heads in the late 1980s. Visionary guitarist-composer Michael Hedges, spiritually switched-on by Campbell, took his recommendation to “write your own mythology” to considerable lengths, composing an unpublished autobiographical mythology with an accompanying score, 1990’s Taproot. 

The backstory is unnecessary to enjoy Taproot but it adds rings and tendrils to know Hedges is Taproot, the central protagonist, family members & friends appear as stalks and cuttings, and “The Rootwitch” is his chiropractor. 

The pleasant snap, crackle and pop of the instrumental suggesting deep tissue work and bold adjustments, the piece showcases Hedges’ vibrant, frequently flashy style as he knocks the wood percussively whilst making the strings dance in a manner seemingly impossible for only two hands. While John Fahey and Oregon’s Ralph Towner pioneered many elements Hedges was celebrated for, his bold individuality is evident on “The Rootwitch.”

This aggressive exuberance gives way to a nicely underplayed, consciously simple musical setting for e.e. cummings’ poem “i carry your heart with me (i carry it in).” Hedges’ sweet, earnest voice takes lead with pals David Crosby and Graham Nash chipping in backing vocals. Longtime Hedges collaborator fretless bass wonder Michael Manring further boosts the skipping warmth of Taproot’s closer.

Roy Buchanan: Roy Buchanan (1972)

A guitarist's guitarist, Roy Buchanan didn't sell enough records, play large enough venues, or live long enough to spread his name and talents to a mainstream audience, dying suddenly under tragic circumstances, in August of 1988.

But, as I learned when I picked up his eponymous debut album from 1972, Buchanan's talent, technique, and especially his unbelievable tone still live on through the hands and recorded works of countless guitar heroes I've admired over the decades.

Born Leroy Buchanan in 1939, in Ozark, Arkansas, Roy often shrouded his upbringing in misdirection, fibbing to reporters that his father was a fiddle-playing preacher, that his mother exposed him to gospel revival meetings, even that he was half-wolf!

In fact, Buchanan's family were sharecroppers in Arkansas and later farm laborers near Bakersfield, California, so Roy absorbed a variety of genres while learning the guitar before turning professional by age 15, when he joined Johnny Otis's rhythm and blues revue.

At 19, Buchanan made his recording debut backing up Dale Hawkins at Chess studios on the south side of Chicago (he played the solo on 1958's "My Babe") and he later played with his brother Ronnie's Hawks, tutoring a young Robbie Robertson in the process.

Buchanan carried on working as a sideman throughout the 1960s, but at one point also trained as a hairdresser in order to support his family, while performing mostly in the Washington D.C. area where he established a modest following in clubs.

Roy's luck changed in 1971, when he was featured in a PBS special called Introducing Roy Buchanan (not The Best Unknown Guitarist in the World, as is sometimes reported), earned a solo deal from Polydor, high praise from stars like Merle Haggard and John Lennon, and even a rumored invitation to join The Rolling Stones!

Having waited so long, the 33-year-old Roy was ready to show off his formidable six-string arsenal here, beginning with his trademark pinch harmonics and volume manipulation on Don Gibson's "Sweet Dreams" and the half-surf music, half-Bo Diddley beat of "Cajun."

"John's Blues" obviously taught Stevie Ray Vaughan a few tricks (methinks Stevie also borrowed Roy's sartorial fashion sense), and Buchanan proves himself a master country picker, complete with a glassy, faux-pedal steel sound on "I Am a Lonesome Fugitive."

But revelation truly arrives via the seven-minute instrumental, "Pete's Blue," which made a huge impression on the great Jeff Beck (who later dedicated "Cause We've Ended as Lovers" to Roy) because, what others required effects pedals for, Buchanan achieved with his bare hands, supernatural touch, and a 1953 Telecaster nicknamed "Nancy."

Finally, there's Buchanan's stunning signature piece, "The Messiah Will Come Again," where his mumbled introduction establishes a sacred mood for a mournful waltz whose melodies, pacing, feel, and even occasional fretboard fireworks, obviously provided the template for Gary Moore's "Parisienne Walkways."

Released to no small amount of critical Roy's belated solo debut still sold in modest quantities, but watching period footage like this and this will make it obvious why his astonishing skills left fellow guitarists and musos alike gobsmacked and slack-jawed.

Buchanan's aptly named Second Album went Gold in 1973, and so did his sixth, Loading Zone, in '77, but he subsequently swore never to enter another recording studio, tired of meddling producers and label executives, before relenting after signing with Alligator Records.

Then calamity struck: after being arrested for public drunkenness in Fairfax County, Virginia, Roy was found hanged from his own shirt in his jail cell, and though officially ruled a suicide, Buchanan's friends and family reported seeing suspicious bruises on the guitarist's head.

Alas, there were no further investigations into the incident and therefore many questions remained unanswered, with the only certainty being that one of the electric guitar's most singular and underrated talents was taken away too soon.

Michael was a master of The Harp Guitar.