Daddy Mac

Readers,

As we roll into Memphis, we meet up with our impromptu host, a really nice guy named Tad invites us into his strange kitchy world on indoor airstreams which he shares with his adorable crotch nipping dog Howdy and fish, Murkey. He lets us park the bus and we seek accommodation for the night. Stepping out onto Beale for some food, I find it's a bit of a cuisine nightmare for me as everything is deep fried and meaty. There are a lot of beggars in Memphis, but it's cool to see this vibrant birthplace of rock. We are near Sun studios and the projects where HE was brought up.

When we arrive the next day at Tad's space, another man steps out of one of the trailers that sit here within the large warehouse space. Like the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, you kind of forget you're indoors. Tad runs a tour of ELVISLAND in a 55 caddillac, the same model THE KING bought his mother after scoring his record contract. He takes a few of us the next day to meet up with our collaborator, a blues man named Daddy Mac. We wait for mac at his garage, a dark place where he squeezes out a living between spots at local juke joints and touring. He arrives and is a nice guy, but it becomes pretty clear that his interests in our process are more financially related then anyone else we worked with. That said, we come to an agreement even though he seems reticent and has to leave by dusk to visit his hospitalized father. So we quickly get to Tad's to start with the limited time given.

An hour later Daddy gets there and we jam a bit on blues. I know nothing about what I'm doing, but Daddy takes it in stride, soloing without apparently ever tiring of it. I try and show him the chords we quickly came up and he doesn't seem too interested in this so he feeds me some chords he'd rather solo over and we play a while. We decide the lyric should be based on things Daddy is talking about, primarily places around the world he's been. It's an interesting thing, being thrown into the salad bowl with someone so hardwired to a specialty. Getting him to sing the part as written was really a chore, but he was a good sport about trying. And trying . And trying.
When he left, we were a little saddened that he had so little visible interest in what we were doing. It may have well been a cultural thing, or that Daddy Mac has been screwed over by people for some time now, but he really was the least enthused partnership to date. Still, the man could play the guitar like a bad ass. We will undoubtedly be using some of his licks in the song.

When he left, Clark and I had our work cut out for us and were up until three thirty turning our crap attempt at being bluesmen into something a bit more Wilburys and GLish.

I wish we had a bit more time here to see Graceland, but Louisville Kentucky awaits. We have been invited to the Kentucky Derby by our good friend Adrian. Time to bone up on the horses. God, that sounded awful.

Nathan