us where we want to go."
We played blues standards and I had no trouble fitting in. When we finished, I remember Henry looking at the other guys. He didn't want to make up his mind on the spot. Henry was still a good 'ol boy, a southern racist back then and he thought only a southern white guy could have the right feeling. It took him a decade to lose that crap. But in the minds of Alan and The Bear and Larry, I was in. Skip and John took me by the arm and led me outside. We leaned against a rail by the horse corral.
"The guys want you. What do you think about joining Canned Heat?" Without hesitation, limited English and all, I blurted out what I really felt, a line that became attached to me - my mantra, my battle cry - when the others heard it:
"I was BORN to play with Canned Heat."
A salute from the Bear In front of the first Canned Heat Van
At the Tomcat club with my brand new 1967 Pontiac Firebird 400 4-Speed.
Buddy Miles brings Larry his birthday cake at the Kaleidoscope, 1968. John Hartmann looking on.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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