The blues had a baby and they named it rock and roll

“If you don’t know the blues, there’s no point in picking up the guitar and playing rock and roll, or any other music, for that matter.” — Keith Richards

When people are feeling down and out, they get depressed.  They get sad.  It happens to everyone.  They get what has often been known as The Blues.

How do we deal with these negative feelings?  As is often the case, we turn to music to put salve on our psychic wounds.  We just sing.  We just play the guitar, or fiddle, or harmonica, and let the music take us to a better place.

bradfordville_540x242And yet, at its purest sense, blues music has been largely ignored by the mainstream public at large.  For instance, there aren’t more than a handful of truly blues songs that have found their way on to the Top 40 pop charts.  Back in 1958, Eddie Cochran’s smoldering cover of “Summertime Blues” reached #8 on the pop charts, and The Who’s live version ended up at #27 in 1970.   But those are exceptions to the rule.

Still, blues has played a pivotal role in the evolution of rock music, and most major rock bands have included pure blues tunes in their repertoire.  Witness “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” or “For You Blue” by The Beatles, or “Roadhouse Blues” by The Doors, or “One Way Out” by The Allman Brothers, or “Black Limousine” by The Rolling Stones, even “Steamroller” by James Taylor.

Blues music is soulful.  It’s full of deep emotion.  It attempts to address the pain of those who suffer, yet it gives hope and support as well.  And it’s important to acknowledge the fact that the blues emerged from the Southern U.S. cotton fields, where slaves and indentured blacks toiled, looking for a break in their bleak existence.  They found solace in song, and put melody, rhythm and words to their misery.

The first appearance of the blues is usually dated after the end of the Civil War, between 1870 and 1900, a period that also saw the rise of so-called “juke joints” where blacks went to listen to music and dance after a hard day’s work.

9772_b-b-kingsAs blues guitar legend B.B. King put it:

“Blues was started by the slaves, and I think everyone thinks it should all be sad.  But even the slaves had fun with it.  Blues began out of feeling misused, mistreated, feeling like they had nobody to turn to.  But blues don’t have to be sung by people from Mississippi, like me.  There are people having problems all over the world.” 

Icons like Robert Johnson, Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith were the first to record early blues songs in the 1920s in the Delta, at the same time country legends were doing the same thing in Memphis and elsewhere.  The two genres have had a lot in common, and have merged many times in their mutual evolution.  In fact, in the first half of the 20th Century, blues was known as “country blues,” played on acoustic guitars, harmonicas and pianos.  Later, after blacks migrated to St. Louis, Chicago and other Northern cities, “urban blues” developed, which featured electric guitars, basses, organs and brass instruments.

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Robert Johnson

But let’s really look at The Blues.  Let’s look at Sonny Boy Williamson (“Bring It on Home,” “Don’t Start Me to Talkin’,” “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl,” “One Way Out”), and Lightnin’ Hopkins (“Baby Please Don’t Go”), and Big Bill Broonzy (“Key to the Highway”), and Willie Dixon (“Spoonful,” “Hoochie Coochie Man,” “Little Red Rooster”), and so many other legends who wrote and played heartfelt songs that were popular not only in blues circles at the time but were later interpreted to greater success by others like Cream, Sam Cooke, Johnny Winter, Derek and the Dominos, Steppenwolf, Dave Mason and The Doobie Brothers.

We ought to thank the sailors on the postwar merchant ships who brought early blues records with them on their long voyages to England, where youngsters like John Lennon, Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton got their hands on them and had a spiritual awakening.  They formed bands, and cranked out electric versions of these same blues — records like The Stones’ “Not Fade Away” and The Beatles’ “Dizzy Miss Lizzie” and “Bad Boy.”

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Ma Rainey

“When we started playing in London in 1962,” notes Keith Richards, “we started off with Chicago blues.  If you wanted stardom and fame, clearly that was not the way to go.”

By the late ’60s, American musicians had also become reacquainted with the blues, and they joined the blues revival:  Canned Heat, Janis Joplin, Paul Butterfield, Taj Mahal, and so on.  Still, it was the Brits who continued to be the main source of blues music interpretations, thanks to artists like Cream, Led Zeppelin and Jeff Beck.

Here’s the thing about The Blues:  The best blues you’ve heard, or will ever hear, is not in some domed stadium, arena or large venue.  It will come instead in some dive joint down a dark street in some sketchy neighborhood, where seasoned veterans will play blues music all night long.

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Muddy Waters

Perhaps that’s why many music lovers I know have only a small window of appreciation for the blues.  “I’ll enjoy two or three songs, but then I want something else,” says my wife.  Me, I’d be happy to sit in that blues club and groove along until four in the morning.

Blues artists have always seemed to be satisfied cruising along just under the radar, gaining just enough attention for people to keep packing the clubs and buying an album or two, but not necessarily seeking top-of-the-charts fame.

I’d like to call out the blues music artists, and their albums, that I believe are the ones you should explore.  These are blues legends, or more recent artists who have embraced blues music and are worthy of your consideration.

Eric_Clapton_UnpluggedEric Clapton has probably done more to promote the blues than anyone in the music industry.   His work with Cream (1966-1969) revitalized names like Willie Dixon (“Spoonful”), Albert King (“Born Under a Bad Sign”), Chester Burnett (“Sitting on Top of the World”), and Robert Johnson (“Crossroads”).  And the “Layla” album, where he played in tandem with Duane Allman, is one of the best blues albums of all time (“Key to the Highway,” “Have You Ever Loved a Woman”).  In his solo career, he explored many non-blues forms, but he always returned to the blues, his true love.  His bluesiest albums to check out:  John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers “Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton” (1965), Cream’s “Disraeli Gears” (1967) and “Wheels of Fire” (1968), Derek & the Dominos’ “Layla” (1970).   Solo albums:  “Just One Night” (1980), “Money and Cigarettes” (1983), “Unplugged,” (1992),  “From the Cradle” (1994), “Riding With the King” (2000), “Me and Mr. Johnson” (2004).

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Stevie Ray Vaughan (left) with Buddy Guy

Stevie Ray Vaughan was the heir apparent to the blues guitar throne in the late 1980s.  He emerged from an Austin, Texas, scene with smoldering tracks like “Texas Flood” and “Pride and Joy,” and even had the audacity to cover Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)”.  His work made him an attraction to stars like David Bowie, who featured him on his monumental “Let’s Dance” LP in 1983.  Vaughan died in a freak helicopter crash in 1990, just as his career was gaining momentum.  Albums to check out:  “Texas Flood” (1983) “Soul to Soul” (1985), “In Step” (1989).

0001132301Buddy Guy is a true legend, and a man Clapton describes as “the best blues guitar player ever, bar none.”  Now 81, Guy has been an explosive force in concert for more than 60 years, and has influenced most of the better known guitarists in the business.  Check out “Damn Right I’ve Got the Blues” (1991).

Jimmy Page, first with The Yardbirds and then Led Zeppelin, has been at the top of everyone’s list of great blues guitarists, and Zeppelin’s debut “Led Zeppelin” (1969) is the best place to hear it.

John Lee Hooker was a towering blues guitarist and songwriter from his teens in the early ’30s until his death in 2001.  He was a multiple Grammy winner and a major influence on blues music for seven decades.  Try “The Healer” (1989) and “Mr. Lucky” (1991).

Jimi Hendrix recorded only two pure blues songs on his official releases — “Voodoo Chile” and “Red House” — but he did more to reinvent the blues than any guitarist in history.  “Are You Experienced?” (1967) and “Electric Ladyland” (1968) showcase Hendrix’s unique style of blues-based originals.

008811164614BB King, rightly dubbed “King of the Blues” in most music polls, lived to the ripe age of 89, and continued performing upwards of 250 shows a year right up until the end in 2015.  His string-bending guitar style influenced dozens of electric blues guitarists who followed.  I recommend “Live at The Regal” (1965) and “Completely Well” (1969), and his collaboration with Clapton, “Riding With the King” (2000).

Peter Green, founder of the venerable Fleetwood Mac, was in charge of the group for its first three years, when they were known as Britain’s best blues band.  It was Green’s outstanding blues guitar and songwriting that put them at the top of the charts there.  Check out “Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac” (1968) and “Mr. Wonderful” (1968).

617gSnp3ovL._SL500_Duane & Gregg Allman are among the top two or three blues guitarists and singers, respectively, in the business.  Duane died at only 24 but laid down some of the best blues recordings ever in his short life.  Gregg just died this year, and contributed great vocals, organ and songwriting throughout his lengthy career.  Check out “Live  at Fillmore East” (1971), “Eat a Peach” (1972) and “Laid Back” (1973).

Joe Bonamassa was a guitar prodigy, playing electric guitar before he entered kindergarten!  Now 40, Bonamassa puts on a virtual guitar clinic with every performance.  He has such a passion for the blues that he devotes time and treasure to a non-profit called Keeping the Blues Alive Foundation, which funds music scholarships and music education all over the country.  I would recommend “Beacon Theater:  Live From New York” (2012) and “Blues of Desperation” (2016).

Janis Joplin had perhaps the most dynamic blues voice of all, but we only got to hear it for a few years.  Fortunately, records like “Cheap Thrills” (1968) and “I Got Dem Ol’ Kozmic Blues Again Mama!” (1969) captured her spine-tingling vocals at their best.

John Mayall was and still is a sort of “father figure” to blues musicians from 1960 on.  Consider that Clapton, Green, and The Stones’ Mick Taylor all spent time as guitarists for Mayall’s band The Bluesbreakers.  “John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers With Eric Clapton” (1965) is an absolute must, as are “The Turning Point” (1969) and “Chicago Line” (1988).

Jeff_Beck-TruthJeff Beck is still blowing people’s minds today at age 73 with his innovative guitar playing.  While he also delved into jazz fusion and progressive rock, he cut his teeth on the blues, as evidenced by his work with The Yardbirds on “Roger the Engineer” (1966) and his stunning solo debut, “Truth” (1968).

John Mayer writes beautiful melodies and sings them with a sweet voice, but until you see him live, you may not realize what a phenomenal blues guitarist he is.  The best album to illustrate this is “Where the Light Is:  Live in Los Angeles” (2008).

Paul Rodgers, former lead singer of Free and Bad Company, was nominated for a Grammy for his superlative album “Muddy Water Blues: A Tribute to Muddy Waters” (1993), which features some of the top guitarists guesting on Waters’ best songs.

Robert Cray, starting in the mid-’80s and continuing to this day, has released new blues albums every couple of years, highlighting his smooth blues guitar work and vocals.  “Strong Persuader” (1986) and “Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark” (1988) are excellent LPs from his strong catalog.

j1523_stones_packshot-digital-4000x4000-layered-f23ca9df-dee7-4b99-a7d4-a18b920f3501Jonny Lang was only 15 when he astounded blues music lovers with his debut LP “Lie to Me” (1997).  He continues to amaze concertgoers with his talents on blues guitar.

The Rolling Stones, for more than 50 years, have wanted to make a blues album, playing the music they did when they were just starting out.  They finally did, and it’s a revelation:  “Blue and Lonesome” (2016).

While blues music only occasionally shows up at the top of the pop charts, and its popularity waxes and wanes over the years, it’s durable.  There’s always a place for the blues.  In a 1968 interview, Willie Dixon was philosophical about the role that the blues play in the larger musical picture:  “The blues are the roots, and the other musics are the fruits.  It’s better keeping the roots alive, because it means better fruits from now on.  The blues are the roots of all American music — country, jazz, rock.  As long as American music survives, so will the blues.”

The act you’ve known for all these years

This one is personal.

As the summer of 1967 approached, I was leaving elementary school and moving on to “junior high” (middle school these days).  I was 12.  I had been enjoying pop/rock music since at least 1964 and The Beatles’ appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” and was significantly influenced by my big sister, who loved most of the mid-’60s pop and all the great Motown stuff.

But she hadn’t come along for the ride as The Beatles expanded their wings with the inventive material on “Revolver,” so I never heard those tracks (except the dreadful “Yellow Submarine” and the surprising “Eleanor Rigby,” which were radio singles).

I was puzzled and delighted, respectively, by the double A-side single “Strawberry Fields Forever”/”Penny Lane” in February 1967, and wondered what might come next.

So when the landmark LP “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” showed up on June 2, 1967, I was dazzled, knocked out, blown away (like the rest of the world, apparently) Sgt._Pepper's_Lonely_Hearts_Club_Bandas my friend Paul cranked it up on his stereo that fine summer day.  My first impression was, wow, there was SO much going on!  New instruments, intriguing sound effects, and an insanely broad variety of musical genres, including rock, big band, vaudeville, jazz, blues, chamber music, circus, music hall, avant-garde, Indian…

And holy smokes, what an array of truly astounding lyrics — printed on the back of the album for the first time! — lyrics about newspaper taxis and cellophane flowers, Wednesday morning at five o’clock, painting the room in a colorful way, some guy named Billy Shears, 4,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire, and a band that’s been going in and out of style.

It was a revelation — so much so that, for the first time, I used my own money to buy my first album a couple of days later.

As Paul McCartney explained, “We were kind of fed up with being Beatles.  We had grown to hate that four little mop-top boys approach.  We were not boys anymore, we were men.  And we weren’t just performers, we were artists.”

Abandoning the unpleasant world of touring, The Beatles turned their attention to the studio, and decided they would make their statement there, creating music that wasn’t tumblr_nb2q59AbVF1qalx0to1_500intended to, and couldn’t, be performed live.  Producer George Martin explained, “These songs were designed to be studio productions, using new recording techniques and electronic possibilities that gave them the ability to paint sound rather than photograph it.  And that was the difference.”

The process started slowly, not fully formed.  McCartney had come up with a novel concept that would help downplay the suffocating idolatry that had made their lives miserable.  “I got this idea,” he said.  “I thought, ‘Let’s not be ourselves.  Let’s develop alter egos so we’re not having to project the same old image which we know.’  It would be much more free, an entirely different approach.”

The San Francisco music scene at that time was rife with groups bearing elaborate names like Strawberry Alarm Clock, Big Brother and the Holding Company and Quicksilver Messenger Service, and they thought it would be fun to concoct a name that hearkened back to the Victorian brass bands, bringing a rock and roll sensibility to traditional musical styles.  Lennon noted, “These West Coast long-name groups, like Fred and his Incredible Sheep Shrinking Grateful Airplanes, or whatever it might be, inspired us.”  And behind this facade would be John, Paul, George and Ringo, doing their thing in a whimsical, mind-blowing way.

To say they succeeded would be a laughable understatement.  As Lennon later put it, “We tried and, I think, succeeded in achieving what we set out to do.”

And yet, “Sergeant Pepper” wasn’t truly the “concept album” it was originally conceived to be.  It started boldly with McCartney’s muscular title track introducing us to a show by the fictitious “band,” complete with crowd noises, followed by Ringo’s cheerful number, “With a Little Help From My Friends.”  But after that, the tracks had little to do with the notion of a fake band playing some other group’s songs.  As Lennon put it, “My contributions to the album had nothing whatsoever to do with this idea of Sgt. Pepper and his band.  The songs would’ve fit on any other Beatles LP.”  

Still, the sheer diversity of the musical styles that followed made the album seem like a virtual variety show, featuring Indian music (George Harrison’s mesmerizing “Within You Without You”), old-fashioned dance hall tunes (“When I’m Sixty- Four”), circus music (“Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite”), and typical Beatles pop (“Getting Better”).

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The effect was almost overwhelming at the time, in large part because its timing was perfect, at the peak of Swinging London and the beginning of the so-called “Summer of Love.”  No one — not even The Beatles on “Revolver” — had reconfigured the pop landscape like this before.  For a brief period, the music of “Sgt. Pepper” burst forth from every open window, every club, every radio station.  It was truly transformational.

Most critics lauded it as “a masterpiece” and “a decisive moment in the history of popular music,” an album that “elevated the pop song to the level of fine art.”

And yet, years later in retrospect, many observers regard these songs as dated, flawed “period pieces” of a long-forgotten time, while the tracks on “Revolver” or their later work (“The White Album” and “Abbey Road”) stand up far better 40 or 50 years later.

Rolling Stone‘s Greil Marcus felt “Sgt. Pepper” was “playful yet contrived” and suggested it was “strangled by its own conceits.”  Richard Goldstein of The New York Times wrote, “It’s dazzling but ultimately fraudulent” as studio confection.  In his 2011 autobiography, Keith Richards called the album “a mishmash of rubbish, sort of like ‘Satantic Majesties.'”

Even Harrison and Starr went on record as saying they didn’t much care for it.  “I found it tiring, and a bit boring,” said George years later.  “I had a few moments in there that I enjoyed, but generally, I didn’t like the album much.  I preferred ‘Rubber Soul’ and ‘Revolver.'”  Ringo added, “The thing I remember about making that album is I learned how to play chess.  I spent hours and hours waiting to record my parts while the geniuses worked on the overdubs and little extra frills.”

Obviously, most people thoroughly embraced it, evidenced by its place atop many “Best Albums of All Time” lists over the years.  It’s hard to fathom now, but in 1967, this pepperbackalbum seemed to change everything:  It made the album the pre-eminent musical format instead of the single; it made the inclusion of printed lyrics a commonplace feature; it made it okay to create music in the studio that wasn’t likely to be recreated live on stage.  Said Martin in 2007:  “‘Sgt. Pepper’ was a musical fragmentation grenade, exploding with a force that is still being felt.  It grabbed the world of pop music by the scruff of the neck, shook it hard, and left it to wander off, dizzy but still wagging its tail.”

We should talk a bit about the album cover, which was yet another radical departure from what had been seen before.  Assembling cardboard cutouts of 50+ celebrities and historical figures, setting them up in rows behind the four lads, who were dressed in shiny, colorful Victorian-era brass-band suits, was a huge undertaking that the-beatles-sgt-pepper-photo-shoot-set-1967-chelsea-manor-studiosmade an enormous impact on cover design from then onward.  No longer would album covers be designed by lame record-company hacks.  It would now be a new canvas on which the younger generation’s artistic upstarts would share their visions.

But it’s the music I really want to talk about here.  And while I would probably rank “Sgt. Pepper” no higher than fifth on my list of favorite Beatles albums, I was gobsmacked when I listened to the brand-new remixed stereo album released last week, which features the wondrous engineering work of the late George Martin’s son Giles, who went back to the original four-track recordings to produce a proper mix that features all the instruments, voices and effects in all their intended glory.  A companion CD offers fascinating “rough drafts” of each song, giving hints as to how the tracks evolved.

Yogi #4It must be mentioned that “Sgt. Pepper” would have been significantly better had it included the first two tracks recorded for it, “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane.”  These beauties were the first two songs recorded in November 1966, but EMI Records insisted on releasing them as a double A-side single several months in advance of the LP.  Because The Beatles had a tradition of never putting their singles on the subsequent album (at least in Britain), “Strawberry Fields” and “Penny Lane” were omitted.  Personally speaking, I’d like to imagine the album with these two extraordinary songs in place of lesser tracks like “When I’m Sixty-Four” and “Good Morning Good Morning.”

Ah well.  Let’s take a look at the tunes themselves:

“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”/”Sgt. Pepper reprise”

McCartney gets all the credit for these two pieces that frame the idea of the LP being the work of Sgt. Pepper and his band, not The Beatles.  Thanks to some blistering electric guitar work by Paul, the opening track and its reprise near the end rock out more than any other songs on the LP.

“With a Little Help From My Friends”

Generally regarded as Ringo’s finest vocal moment in the band’s repertoire, this was the last one written for the album.  John and Paul came up with it one evening late during the sessions with Ringo’s vocal in mind, and it fit perfectly as the second number following the “Sgt. Pepper” intro.  Most people regard Joe Cocker’s 1969 cover version far superior, but the original is upbeat and fun, in keeping with the album’s overall spirit.

“Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds”

When John’s son Julian presented him with a drawing he’d made in pre-school, John inquired as to what it was.  “It’s my friend Lucy, in the sky, with diamonds,” the boy said.  Just an innocent way of honoring his young friend…and John took that title and ran with it, coming up with one of most surreal, dreamlike tracks in the pop music canon.  Although widely perceived as a paean to, and celebration of, LSD and drug-taking, Lennon has always adamantly denied it.  “It’s just a fantasy based on a child’s drawing,” he claimed.

a5a0b8704830e24bfec873e10364a07f“Getting Better”

McCartney could aways be counted on to provide a sunny, bouncy song somewhere in the mix, and “Getting Better” was this album’s example.  But the more acerbic, cynical Lennon injected his thoughts with lines like “it can’t get no worse” (sung three times), which he felt balanced out what was otherwise too positive a song.  “Life just isn’t that bright for many people,” he believed.

“Fixing a Hole”

Another fine McCartney tune with an infectious melody.  It was on this album, with tracks like this one, when Paul began asserting himself more as the band’s de facto musical director, as Lennon gradually withdrew, became more involved in other pursuits.

“She’s Leaving Home”

More so than even “Yesterday” or “Eleanor Rigby,” this track uses classical stringed instruments to marvelous effect as McCartney sings the poignant tale of a teenaged girl running away from home.  Lennon’s contribution was to view it from the parents’ viewpoint, selfishly wondering what they’d done wrong.  A lovely piece.

8205076-3x2-940x627“Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite”

Lennon found a vintage poster of an old-time traveling show full of circus-type attractions and used it as the basis for this swirling, chaotic Midway of a track that, although fitting in this album’s context, was criticized as being “about as far from rock and roll as you can get,” noted Lou Reed in 1975.

“Within You Without You”

The placement of Harrison’s droning piece at the beginning of Side Two (remember Side Two?) made it easy for me to skip it when I lowered the needle onto the vinyl back in the ’60s.  While I’ve grown to appreciate it, particularly the lyrics, this track is too long by half.

“When I’m Sixty-Four”

An inoffensive example of what Lennon derisively called “that Granny music Paul likes.”  Again, it fits within the context of the album, but it’s ultimately pretty inconsequential.

“Lovely Rita”

A joyous track full of rollicking piano and great vocals.  This one wouldn’t have sounded out of place on “Revolver” or “The White Album,” in my opinion.

“Good Morning Good Morning”

Lennon dismissed this track years later as “a piece of rubbish,” largely because it was inspired by a TV commercial for corn flakes.  But it also served as a springboard for a whole stable of animal noises in the fadeout, leading into the final two tracks.

“A Day in the Life”

How appropriate that this one is saved for the closer.  In retrospect, I believe it stands as the very pinnacle of the 215 songs they wrote, and puts a dramatic finale on their most iconic LP.  John brought the basic song to the studio, based on a couple of items he’d seen in the newspaper about a friend who’d died in a car accident and a story about potholes in the town of Blackburn.  McCartney had a little unfinished ditty about a memory of his beatles-abbey-road-770morning routine every school day (“Woke up, fell out of bed”), and they found a crafty way of merging the two into one amazing piece.

The transition between the two still stands as the most revolutionary segue ever conceived — a symphony orchestra starting on the same note, gradually moving up at their own pace, getting increasingly louder until they arrived tumultuously at the same note 24 bars later.  As McCartney put it:  “We needed something really amazing, a total freak-out.”  Lennon described it as “a sound building up from nothing to the end of the world.”  The result was almost frightening in its intensity, and The Beatles loved the results so much that they repeated it as the song’s denouement, capped with all four Beatles simultaneously hitting the same E chord on pianos, letting the note ring out for 40 seconds to fadeout.  Fantastic.

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“Sgt. Pepper” has been overanalyzed and researched to death, and is in many ways one of the most overrated albums ever made, if only because of the social/cultural impact that has always been attached to it.  It’s clever, daring, pretentious, profound, wildly creative, technically trailblazing and, not incidentally, it’s a whole lot of fun.

Do yourself a favor and listen to it again (the 2017 remix) in its entirety.  What an experience!