Blues Quotes

Quotes tagged as "blues" Showing 1-30 of 110
Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
“If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:
kurt vonnegut

Nick Hornby
“Have you got any soul?" a woman asks the next afternoon. That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days no. A few days ago I was right out; now I've got loads, too much, more than I can handle. I wish I could spread it a bit more evenly, I want to tell her, get a better balance, but I can't seem to get it sorted. I can see she wouldn't be interested in my internal stock control problems though, so I simply point to where I keep the soul I have, right by the exit, just next to the blues.”
Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

Eric Clapton
“For me there is something primitively soothing about this music, and it went straight to my nervous system, making me feel ten feet tall.”
Eric Clapton

Lady Gaga
“Amy [Winehouse] changed pop music forever, I remember knowing there was hope, and feeling not alone because of her. She lived jazz, she lived the blues.”
Lady Gaga

Jon   Stewart
“We've come from the same history - 2000 years of persecution - we've just expressed our sufferings differently. Blacks developed the blues. Jews complained, we just never thought of putting it to music.”
Jon Stewart

Ann-Marie MacDonald
“She's no lady. Her songs are all unbelievably unhappy or lewd. It's called Blues. She sings about sore feet, sexual relations, baked goods, killing your lover, being broke, men called Daddy, women who dress like men, working, praying for rain. Jail and trains. Whiskey and morphine. She tells stories between verses and everyone in the place shouts out how true it all is.”
Ann-Marie MacDonald, Fall on Your Knees

Frederick Douglass
“I have sometimes thought that the mere hearing of those songs would do more to impress some minds with the horrible character of slavery, than the reading of whole volumes of philosophy on the subject could do.

I did not, when a slave, understand the deep meaning of those rude and apparently incoherent songs. I was myself within the circle; so that I neither saw nor heard as those without might see and hear. They told a tale of woe which was then altogether beyond my feeble comprehension; they were tones loud, long, and deep; they breathed the prayer and complaint of souls boiling over with bitterest anguish. Every tone was a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverance from chains. The hearing of those wild notes always depressed my spirit, and filled me with ineffable sadness. I have frequently found myself in tears while hearing them. The mere recurrence to those songs, even now, afflicts me; and while I am writing these lines, an expression of feeling has already found its way down my cheek. To those songs I trace my first glimmering conception of the dehumanizing character of slavery. I can never get rid of that conception. Those songs still follow me, to deepen my hatred of slavery, and quicken my sympathies for my brethren in bonds. If any one wishes to be impressed with the soul-killing effects of slavery, let him go to Colonel Lloyd's plantation, and, on allowance-day, place himself in the deep pine woods, and there let him, in silence, analyze the sounds that shall pass through the chambers of his soul, - and if he is not thus impressed, it will only be because "there is no flesh in his obdurate heart."

I have often been utterly astonished, since I came to the north, to find persons who could speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence of their contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears. At least, such is my experience. I have often sung to drown my sorrow, but seldom to express my happiness. Crying for joy, and singing for joy, were alike uncommon to me while in the jaws of slavery. The singing of a man cast away upon a desolate island might be as appropriately considered as evidence of contentment and happiness, as the singing of a slave; the songs of the one and of the other are prompted by the same emotion.”
Frederick Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

Eric Clapton
“Musically, he was like an old man in a boy's skin.”
Eric Clapton

Richelle Mead
“What were good and evil, really, but stupid categories? Stupid categories
that restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn't have any way to control.”
Richelle Mead, Succubus Blues

Eric Clapton
“At first the music almost repelled me, it was so intense, and this man made no attempt to sugarcoat what he was trying to say, or play. It was hard-core, more than anything I had ever heard. After a few listenings I realized that, on some level, I had found the master, and that following this man's example would be my life's work.”
Eric Clapton

Cornel West
“I'm a bluesman moving through a blues-soaked America, a blues-soaked world, a planet where catastrophe and celebration- joy and pain sit side by side. The blues started off in some field, some plantation, in some mind, in some imagination, in some heart. The blues blew over to the next plantation, and then the next state. The blues went south to north, got electrified and even sanctified. The blues got mixed up with jazz and gospel and rock and roll.”
Cornel West, Brother West: Living and Loving Out Loud, A Memoir

Herman Melville
“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever i find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet... I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.”
Herman Melville, Moby-Dick or, the Whale

Ann Petry
“Her voice had a thin thread of sadness running through it that made the song important, that made it tell a story that wasn’t in the words – a story of despair, of loneliness, of frustration. It was a story that all of them knew by heart and had always known because they had learned it soon after they were born and would go on adding to it until the day they died.”
Ann Petry, The Street

David Mutti Clark
“And here's to the blues, the real blues— where there's a hint of hope in every cry of desperation.”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

Walter Mosley
“The great man say that life is pain," Coydog had said over eighty-five years before. "That mean if you love life, then you love the hurt come along wit' it. Now, if that ain't the blues, I don't know what is.”
Walter Mosley, The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey

Bob Dylan
“When Johnson started singing, he seemed like a guy who could have sprung from the head of Zeus in full armor.”
Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One

Amiri Baraka
“To be sure, rock n' roll is usually a flagrant commercialization of rhythm & blues, but the music in many cases depends on materials that are so alien to the general middle-class, middle-brow American culture as to remain interesting. Many of the same kinds of cheap American dilutions that had disfigured popular swing have tended to disfigure the new music, but the source, the exciting and "vulgar" urban blues of the forties, is still sufficiently removed from the mainstream to be vital. For this reason, rock n' roll has not become as emotionally meaningless as commercial swing. It is sill raw enough to stand the dilution and in some cases, to even be made attractive by the very fact of its commercialization. Even its "alienation" remains conspicuous; it is often used to characterize white adolescents as "youthful offenders." (Rock n' roll also is popular with another "underprivileged" minority, e.g., Puerto Rican youths. There are now even quite popular rock n' roll songs, at least around New York, that have some of the lyrics in Spanish.) Rock n' roll is the blues form of the classes of Americans who lack the "sophistication" to be middle brows, or are too naïve to get in on the mainstream American taste; those who think that somehow Melachrino, Kostelanetz, etc., are too lifeless”
Imamu Amiri Baraka/Leroi Jones, Blues People: Negro Music in White America

Craig Werner
“....Charles laughingly observed,'Gospel and the blues are really, if you break it down, almost the same thing. It's just a question of whether you're talkin' about a woman or God.”
Craig Werner, Higher Ground: Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Curtis Mayfield, and the Rise and Fall of American Soul

Eric Clapton
“La tournée terminée, Tom et Roger pensèrent qu'après le succès de I Shot The Sheriff, ce serait bien de descendre dans les Caraïbes pour continuer sur le thème du reggae. Ils organisèrent un voyage en Jamaïque, où ils jugeaient qu'on pourrait fouiner un peu et puiser dans l'influence roots avant d'enregistrer. Tom croyait fermement au bienfait d'exploiter cette source, et je n'avais rien contre puisque ça voulait dire que Pattie et moi aurions une sorte de lune de miel. Kingston était une ville où il était fantastique de travailler. On entendant de la musique partout où on allait. Tout le monde chantait tout le temps, même les femmes de ménage à l'hotel. Ce rythme me rentrait vraiment dans le sang, mais enregistrer avec les Jamaïcains était une autre paire de manches.

Je ne pouvais vraiment pas tenir le rythme de leur consommation de ganja, qui était énorme. Si j'avais essayé de fumer autant ou aussi souvent, je serais tombé dans les pommes ou j'aurais eu des hallucinations. On travaillait aux Dynamic Sound Studios à Kingston. Des gens y entraient et sortaient sans arrêt, tirant sur d'énormes joints en forme de trompette, au point qu'il y avait tant de fumée dans la salle que je ne voyais pas qui était là ou pas. On composait deux chansons avec Peter Tosh qui, affalé sur une chaise, avait l'air inconscient la plupart du temps. Puis, soudain, il se levait et interprétait brillamment son rythme reggae à la pédale wah-wah, le temps d'une piste, puis retombait dans sa transe à la seconde où on s'arrêtait.”
Eric Clapton, Eric Clapton: The Autobiography

David Mutti Clark
“The music echoes in the emptiness. It reminds us where we came from and where we’re bound.”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

Saira Viola
“T was in a blue mood , his open reflections on the isloation of his life floating like Jazz notes under a "pink moon”
Saira Viola, Slide, a Modern Satire on the Excess of Greed

David Mutti Clark
“We start our lives with blues . . . with music. It's our first language. It's the rhythm of the womb. It's your mama's heartbeat inside your head.”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

David Mutti Clark
“You got infinite channels and limitless rhymes, but the riddles of livin' stay undefined?”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

David Mutti Clark
“Now listen for your song. Everybody’s got a song. When I used to chase the Trane— John Coltrane that is— he used to tell me, ‘If I know a man’s sound, I know the man.’ Do you hear the melody playing in your mind? Does it move you, nudge you off your seat?”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

David Mutti Clark
“The music plays . . . and your sense of reality is heightened to a dream.”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

Ken Grimwood
“You see, there's some blues for folks ain't never had a thing, and that's a sad blues ... but the saddest kind of blues is for them that's had everything they ever wanted and has lost it, and knows it won't come back no more. Ain't no sufferin' in this world worse than that; and that's the blue we call 'I Had It But It's All Gone Now.”
Ken Grimwood, Replay

David Mutti Clark
“Your muse ain't singin' on your MTV? Can't even see him on your HD TV?”
David Mutti Clark, Professor Brown Shoes Teaches the Blues

Toni Morrison
“If my mother was in a singing mood, it wasn't so bad. She would sing about hard times, bad times, and somebody-done-gone-and-left-me times. But her voice was so sweet and her singing-eyes so melty I found myself longing for those hard times, yearning to be grown without 'a thin di-i-ime to my name.' I looked forward to the delicious time when 'my man' would leave me, when I would 'hate to see that evening sun go down . . .' 'cause then I would know 'my man has left this town.' Misery colored by the greens and blues in my mother's voice took all the grief out of the words and left me with a conviction that pain was not only endurable, it was sweet.”
Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye

Laurie Perez
“Lover winds a guitar string tight enough to slice your fingertip when you strum. It’s the guitar beat against the belly of the bluesman, sitting ugly on a stool, legs open in front of everyone. Lover is Winslow with sun blinding and wind sticking dust to your cheekbones when you peel out from the crater. The swirling force of cream stirring itself in a reheated cup of coffee steamed by exhaustion. The hands that stripped him bare in his sleep, played his hormones like a mean, magic riff 'til he woke up wet and high inside his bones.”
Laurie Perez, Virga in Death Valley

Lucy H. Pearce
“Humans get hungry for blue, it seems: to hold the sea in
their hands, to wear the sky in their hair, to drape themselves in the hazy blue of distant mountains. Blue is more
than a colour: it is a feeling. We don’t say that we feel orange or
purple, but we say we feel blue when our souls are sad and heavy. We
play or sing or listen to the blues to express this sensation. Like any
colour, it cannot be adequately described with words, only experienced, known through the eyes and the soul.

Making blue has always been magic: the domain of alchemists since the beginning of human history. To find red only required blood or
berries or the smearing of red clay. To make brown was as simple as
reaching down to the earth beneath one’s feet. White chalk is plentiful in many places, or can be replaced by fire ash. But blue appears
rarely in forms from which paints or dyes can be made…blue requires earthly magic.”
Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

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