In Honor of Robin Trower's Recent Appearance @ BB King's

A: Dude, fuck man. I don’t know…but you gotta hear this Page boot.
B: Tell me about it. I’ve got it here.
A: It’s raging.
B: Raging. Endless madness….I was there.
A: Total tear, man.
B: Dude, its one the greatest displays of guitar in the history of rock and roll.
A: I know, man
B: And I was there.
A: I didn’t dose that night, but a lot of my friends were on acid that night.
B: Oh, I was flipping. I was FLIPPING on doses.
A: Yeah?
B: I was out of control on acid.
A: (laughing)
B: Dude it was the insane. It was beyond words insane.
A: Alright, stack that against Robin Trower at the Coach House.
B: Honestly?
A: Yeah.
B: Honestly….here’s what it is. How it breaks down. I’ll just tell you right now. Ritchie Blackmore put on the most insane guitar display that I probably will ever see. At the Rainbow. Pat Travers was backing him up. I doubt I will ever see anything close to that. David Gilmour, 83, his solo tour down in Irvine. And also in 87 Pink Floyd is second. So you can imagine how hard they went off. And Page is third. And…uh….but really it’s hard to say, they’re just…all three. I caught’em, all three, just going off so fucking hard, man, that it’s just my own personal style. Blackmore took the cake. Gilly 2nd, Page 3rd, Trower 4th, dude. Fucking, I would describe Robin Trower as power. Just serious one noting you to the ground with a fuckin’ jackhammer. Shitting these gnarling, bending, twisting notes. Screaming wah-wah pedal. Just fuckin blazing through your ears. Just “wahooo-AAAAHHHH” Feedback, just searing your mind, bro. I mean, dude, Trower was beyond words insane. Gilmore, dude….The only way I can describe Gilmour is this: listen to “Dogs,” listen to the solo“Dogs.” You know the song?
A: Fuck yeah!
B: I’d imagine. Listen to that solo on “Dogs” and times it by like ten or twenty and turn up the volume by like fifty. And that’s kinda what I’m talking about. To where he hits that “WAAAHPP-WAAAHPP.” You know that one part I’m talking about?
A: Ye..Yeah!
B: That….Dude, he was flowing that shit, man. Doing loopdee-loops, man. Just solos that came out of nowhere that you weren’t even expecting. You know what I’m saying?
A: Yeah…
B: To where….like he’ll be throwing you fuckin’ loops and curveballs and screwballs and you’ll be expecting this sound and he’ll come off with something totally off the wall. And fuckin’ just…I mean he was just…he was bending those strings, fuckin’, ripping, just this slow teeth grinding, fuckin’….fuckin’…his face was like so….INTENSE. I mean his feet…Dude, I don’t know if he moved his feet once, bro. I mean to tell you the truth, honestly he didn’t, he just stood there but …but the look on his face, he was just “ROOOAAARR.” Just, oh dude, shhhh. Fuck man, I’ll never forget….83, I’m front row. Literally, front row. His rhythm guitarist is Mick Ralphs. Fuckin’, Mott the Hoople and Bad Company.
A: Ye..Yeah!
B: They fuckin stare…they face each other off, trading off solos. And this wasn’t....this was ad-libbed, this wasn’t staged and I know cause I was trippin on acid, I sensed it. I was there. Mick Ralphs takes off his guitar, dude. Keep in mind this is Mick Ralphs, he’s a legend in his own right, dude. Fucking Mott the Hoople and Bad Compnay. I mean there you have it.
A: I know….
B: He fuckin’ takes off his guitar, dude, lays it down in front of David Gilmour, bro. Fuckin’ bows, shakes his hand, shakes his head simultaneously, mumbling to himself, “oh, my god” turns around and walks off the stage. David Gilmour turns, cause David just blew him away, to where it was like “oh, my god” I cannot play another note. It’s exactly what Mick Ralphs was thinking. That’s exactly the respect he paid. I cannot pick up my guitar again. He fuckin’ lays down his guitar, shook his head, shook Gilly’s hand, turned around, walked off the stage, just like…blown away. Just like everybody in the whole FUCKIN’ place was blown away. His own musicians were blown away, dude. Gilmour turned around, dude. Came to the edge of the stage, dude, bolted out the INSANE fuckin’….it sounded like a helicopter was landing. I don’t know how he got that fuckin’sound effect, dude. I mean I know he’s got some gimmicks and shit, but this stuff came out of left field, bro. I don’t know where this shit came from. I thought…I thought a fuckin’ helicopter was landing on my head. Fuckin’ “BOOM…CHH…CHHH….CHHHICKKA, BOOM…CHH…CHHH….CHHHICKKA” Fuckin’ “WAAAAAA”
A: OH, DUDE!
B: Fuckin’ lasers shot off from behind my head and hit this mirriored reflector below his picks. Below his fuckin’…ah…ah…right below his bottom string he had this little mirrored reflector. And then fuckin’…then the lasers synonymous with the fuckin’ helicopter sounds were machine gunning off his fuckin’ mirror on his guitar.
A: Oh…man!
B: It was like “CH…..CH.... CH…..CH.... CH…..CH” And how fast they were going and how fast they….
A: And you were trippin on acid? Fuck!
B: Dude! I was…not trippin. I was FLIPPING on acid. And then....there….there… there were two…there were two lasers coming from either side that were connecting to the same spot on the guitar and they were both machine guns with little spaces in between. And the exact speed of the sound of the helicopter was exactly how fast the…the…machine…the lasers were shooting.
A: Yeah?
B: And then it got faster and faster “CH…..CH.... CH…..CH.... CH…..CH” and the fuckin’ machine guns “ BUP…. BUP…. BUP…. BUP…. BUP…. BUP” And then he just broke out, cranked on the wah-wah “WAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” Just fuckin’…OH my GOD! I lost it. I….I….I lost it. Then I saw him in 87 with Floyd. Huh! Sorry!! Gilly’s the master….And then I told you about Blackmore, dude. In 1980. Thirteen years ago. Smoked. Just blazed beyond words, bro. He had….he was possessed. That was not a human being I saw that night.
A: Oh my god! I can imagine, dude.
B: Seriously.
A: Fuck, I gotta go to practice.
B: Dude, right on bro.
A: I’ll call you later
B: OK, bye.
A: Late.