She gave me back my youth, the ability for enthusiasm, she gave me the feeling of being fifteen again. In my younger days I took copious photographs of a blues band in Budapest, I even won the state prize of photography with some of those pictures. I was at every gig of them. I accompanied them for years, from their very special, very hard start to their foreseeable breakthrough. They took me with on tours and did let me work on stage with my single lens reflex Practica camera (still from the East Germany, DDR era). Between and after the gigs I was always backstage with the five guys and their groupies. I belonged almost to the band. They were bringing something to the red country, you never heard before, free translated lyrics of western music literarily on highest niveau. They represented the Hungarian Big Beat Generation, even Allen Ginsbergh himself, accompanied by his friend Peter Orlowsky came for a guest appearance to their regular weekly gig. They did a real admirable true pioneer work. They were the first, who did understand the know-how of a show, how to deliver the message and deepest meaning of Blues to the from day to day bigger crowd, which was growing only by snowball effect, by word-of-mouth recommandation. They were showing the wild screaming pain of hopelessness, the loneliness of the rebels to thousends of bewildered teenagers. The shows acted so naturalistically, the infectious charisma so authentic that even in Hungary could happen a wonder. Out of a clown hobo and a handicapped gipsy stars were born. When I saw them at the very first time open air in 1979 in a warm June night at the castle, I did know immediately that this music is different. It was different in the same way, like me. The lyric was asocial, never adaptable it screamed for paying attention and get tribute and it was very sad. That was MY music and it owned a very own philosophy.
RARE EARTH • TOBACCO ROAD