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Warning: this post is gonna make me sound like an angsty sixteen year old…

I might’ve mentioned before that Andre is a jazz/blues musician, who owns more guitars/other instruments than one person will ever need. So when we were together, a big chunk of our time had a lot to do with music.

Before that one horrible night – when he wasn’t playing me his own stuff or other songs in amazing mini-concerts right in my own home, we were seeing live gigs or doing music swaps.

I had numerous Tea Party albums he wanted, as well as some trip-hop/instrumental/percussion based stuff. And in return he gave me some of the classics and his favourites including people like Sheila Chandra, Ritchie Havens, John McLaughlin, Travels Arabian, Bob Marley and Paco De Luca.

And I loved all the stuff he gave me.

But – I haven’t been able to bring myself to listen to it. Especially Ritchie for some reason. The combined charms of his mellow vocals, profound lyrics and brilliant guitar playing just… got under my skin or something. And it hurt.

They’ve all been there in my iTunes, and I’ve spent a great deal of time avoiding playing those tracks – yet never quite being able to bring myself to delete them.

I mean, it’s not the musicians’ fault or anything. That the person who gave me this stuff…

Anyway. So today, sitting here at work and finding little else that hit the spot, I decided – damnit!! – enough is enough! No more avoiding Ritchie. I really, really wanted to hear Scarlet Flames and Pulling Up the Stone and all the rest again.

But it’s been a bit reminiscent of the old high school days… you know, when you couldn’t be friends with someone who your friend was no longer friends with. Or like in more recent times, when we had to change coffee shops here at work because our regular stopped giving us a discount (despite the ridiculous amount of money my team spends there every day on coffee and food), and now we go elsewhere…

Be who you are, be who you are, be who you are…
Say what you’re feeling, say what you’re feeling…
~ Ritchie Havens

Just like that old friend that you couldn’t really talk to for social/political reasons, it’s a joy – tinged with sadness – when you finally sit down and get reacquainted.