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Tomd's avatar

Hi, I'd like to share a moment I had when I was younger. I was in my late twenties living in an urban area with a fair number of homeless. My apartment was adjacent to a homeless shelter run by a lovely couple who took care of homeless men for the long term. Since my porch faced their porch, I got to know most of the men living there. One day, I was on my porch playing my guitar and handed it over to one of the young men living there. He was about my age and had been homeless multiple times in his life. He had never even touched a guitar before. As several of us had been talking, he stopped me just to play two notes. I know this seems hard to believe, but at that moment I knew I would never have the feel or honesty of blues as much as this one young man had. It was like a ton of bricks hitting me. And as much as I love it, there is something really magical and elusive about the blues. I never stopped playing, but finding honesty is an ongoing process.

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Marco Raaphorst's avatar

I always think that blues came from this simple tuning: you tune a string, add another one which is half the length of the first one. These make a tritone interval. Now take a slide. Play both strings. Now move it a half step lower and half step higher. Sounds like blues to me 😎

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