I saw Derek Trucks play at Lincoln Center the other night—this time with his own band—and I felt so peaceful when he walked out onstage. There’s something so ethereal about him and I can’t pinpoint what exactly it is, but a few things come to mind: the fact that he’s a virtuoso; the flowing hair; the fact that he literally doesn’t speak or sing and shies away from all praise and attention; and the way he stands completely calm and humble while creating musical genius. He’s like a very cool blend of of zen master and guitar hero. Obviously, I’m intrigued.
His music also means a lot to me because I see him as a modern continuation of my Dad’s music collection, which has influenced my life so strongly. He’s the nephew of the Allman Brothers’ drummer, and he’s been a member of the band for the last ten years or so, which means I’ll be seeing him again next week. It’s just nice because I hold my Dad’s music really dear to me and it makes me kinda sad that all the old, cool musicians are getting old/dying out. Glad Mr. Derek Trucks is here to carry on.
