Astro Man...

...And other Jimi Hendrix tracks from "First Rays of the New Rising Sun" would seem to be my ideal gym music.  Having conducted a highly un-scientific and random survey of music to drive myself to the edge of physical ruin to, some conclusions have been reached.

 

I have discovered, for instance, that the dreadful radio that they pipe into the gym just makes me want to leave, Iron Maiden (specifically "Live After Death") drowns it out nicely, but is a bit too quick to be conducive to things like being able to walk the next day etc,  Rush's "Hold Your Fire" is an excellent album and nicely paced, but with Rush there is always the risk of odd time signatures and therefore of tying ones legs in knots!

So tonight, I opted for a bit of Jimi - and I think that Mr H's groove is ideal for this gym-bunny...  Well, probably more of a gym-rhino or gym-diplodocus.  

Anyway, James Marshall Hendrix has loomed large in my life for a long time now - being one of the guitarists who really made me want to take up guitar in the first place and has both driven me to try to approach some level of competence or occasionally made me despair of ever making a suitably musical noise out of the damn thing.  He also made me realise that it was possible for weird, tall, frizzy haired dudes could be cool.  (Not that I could ever dream of even being on the same cool scale as Jimi, of course!) 

And more amusingly, a friend who I was briefly in a band with, claimed that I had freaked out his sister, who thought that I was a reincarnation of Jimi sent to haunt her.  Strange girl.  And anyone who has ever heard me play will realise exactly how preposterous a thought that was!  Although, the only famous person that I have been told that I look like where I have actually seen the likeness was Noel Redding of the JHE...  Although I believe that I am about a foot taller than he was.

If there is a point to this interminable ramble, it is that I am glad that music has slotted into this new-found aspect of my life.  If anything other than my friends and family has kept me even borderline sane over the years, it is music.  There are few things in this world that give me an ecstatic rush like the one that I get from hearing the wonderful wail of a guitar being used and abused by a true master of the art - certainly none that I am prepared to share in a blog!  So thank you Jimi for bringing your groove to my bi-weekly torture sessions.