Mitch Mitchell AKA Granny Goose, passed away a few days ago. As custom when someone iconic dies, you revisit their previous works that earn them fame. Listening to his drums in "Fire" when they played in Woodstock all those years ago reminded me that Mitchell was very high, possibly higher than a kite during their gig. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it is bloody psychedelic rock after all. How else would you be inspired to drum like your life and white-afro depended on it? Makes me wonder what life would have been like in the 60s, sans showering and all.
As the last member of the Jimi Hendrix Experience AKA awesome-black-guitarist-flanked-by-two-goofy-white-guys-with-silly-afros, another icon band of psychedelic rock has been laid to rest. Mitchell actually inspired me a fair amount and prompting me to proclaim to friends that I'd try my hand at drumming. Nothing came of that idiotic declaration of course, but the fact remains I was blown away by his talent to make a racket with drums.
I hope you're having fun jamming with Hendrix and Redding in that big studio up in the sky, Mitch.
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