"Who Knows" and "Machine Gun" live at the Fillmore, side one of Band of Gypsys
Somewhere - I think it was in It Might Get Loud - Jack White was expounding on the glory of cheap guitars, and how they made you a better guitar player, which . . . first of all, fuck you Jack White, 'cause most of the time I see you kicking it on a live video, you're doing it with a Gretsch White Falcon, which is more than half a year's rent for a two bedroom in my neighborhood . . . and second, speaking as a fellow primitive technique guitarist, after years of broke-ass guitars with shitty action, when I finally found my beloved transparent green 98 deluxe Telecaster, I immediately became a better player. . . .
BUT, our friend Jack does have a point, or a couple, actually. There is something rewarding about digging out the soul of idiosyncratic guitars, guitars that make you play on their terms, not your own. And also, that glib sort of pentatonic shredding crap is the worst.
Which brings us to Jimi Hendrix, who (of course!) easily transcended the whole shredder mystique . . . at once the ultimate shredder, and beyond shredding itself. Jimi could play guitar as easily and automatically as the normal person speaks, and with a massive vocabulary besides. However, after 45+ years of mining 4 years worth of recording, you find that Jimi's fluency on guitar could be a curse as well as a blessing. Sometimes, per Jack White, guitar came too easy to Hendrix. As a result, there's a whole lot of posthumous Hendrix with a lot of flash, but no substance. The average guitarist, or even a good-to-great guitarist, has to focus on his instrument to be even moderately coherent; but there is Jimi, just chatting away with his guitar. Problem was, he quite often was just talking shit.
There is a story (possibly apocryphal) that Bill Graham, famous Fillmore impresario, was approached by Hendrix after a (literally!) incendiary set during his holiday 69/70 run, and asked for his opinion. Graham told him, in effect, that he was clowning for the audience at the expense of his music. Angered, Hendrix went out and locked in on the next set without the pyrotechnics, at least until the encore, when he went absolutely apeshit as a big "fuck you" to Graham. The version of "Machine Gun" from Band of Gypsys is from that very set.
Hendrix's most popular music was created with Noel Redding on bass and Mitch Mitchell on drums. Billy Cox and Buddy Miles handled the bass and drums respectively for the Band of Gypsys. As brilliant as Mitchell was on drums, Cox and Miles gave Hendrix an open groove and plenty of room to run. At their best, the Band of Gypsys was the next level of rock music, and side one of Band of Gypsys is the band at their best. It is open and funky, an exploration after the soul of Coltrane, as nimble as Dolphy*, as passionate as Ayler or Etta James or Koko Taylor (see Taylor with Willie Dixon on "Insane Asylum"). It is Hendrix focused and at his absolute best.
In light of the revival of the vinyl LP, I think we can not only discuss the greatest rock album, but the greatest rock side. Side two of Band of Gypsys is not a dog by any stretch of the imagination, but it does not stand up to side one. Side one of Band of Gypsys is the best rock side ever . . . and that, friends, is indisputable scientific fact.
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* Hendrix is frequently compared to jazz saxophonists, especially Coltrane, but I believe the most accurate comparison to be Eric Dolphy. Dolphy and Hendrix share an athleticism and aggression that sets them apart.
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