He was a good man.
He was a musician.
He was the kind of musician who just wanted to make music.
He didn't really want the fame or the excess or the riches or the wealth or the girls.
(well, maybe the girls, I mean, what musician doesn't want the girls?)
Well, anyway,
He knew his gear and he knew his sound.
He could play with other bands and he could play with his own.
He was perfectly at home on any stage, big or small, any bar, any venue,
He spoke to the audience with his guitar and his bass.
He was, what they call, a musician's musician.
When you earn the respect of other musicians,
You have reached the level of artisan, a true craftsman.
I don't know how he spent the last twenty years of his life.
I just know he was playing music. What he wanted to do.
He did it every day.
That's really all any of us could ask for - the chance to do what we love doing.
Every day.
He died four years ago and I didn't even know.
Man, how we let people slip away.
But what I have heard about the Austin scene, this was the musician that he was,
And I will never forget that big-toothed smile of his, or that hearty laughter,
or the sound of his Gibson Les Paul.
MR
2016-0229
I went to high school with Kevin. I knew him from jazz band. I play trumpet. I just found out today that he had died. I did a quick Google search to see what I could find out about his passing. I came across your post here. Thank you for posting this. John
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