JIM BUIE

     

Chris Gantry

23 hrs · 

JIM BUIE
Chris Gantry updated his status.
There appeared one day back in the primordial dump of renegade mists, circa 1965, an Italian boy with a black Fishermans cap,..He walked into the office of Buckhorn Music with a twelve string guitar and stayed for a year,..he was never signed or ever fully accepted as one of us,.Why we felt this way about him I'm not quite sure,..he was sort of like a little Robert De Niro type,.very hyper and pushy,..if he captured you in a room or hallway he would pummel you with his songs,.his beautiful unusual songs of reverie for his home state of Minnesota,.songs of trains with ornate diamond wheels and satin coaches,..gorgeous depictions of dew covered landscapes hanging in lavender creamy sunrises splaying over blanched turnpikes that led to sacred temples in coves of pixies and friendly trolls,..women who dashed off on horseback with scoundrels and tattooed Lancelot's belching over terrains of beggars and outraged gorilla's,.young derelict boys with thievery and impenitent lust bursting from their savage testicles with a look of Christ on their faces,..homeless women in burlap shawls who sang like emeralds on dying boulevards in the midst of bombing raids and racial poisonings,.. Fascist men who kidnapped Librarians with troves of of medical books and wept in forbidden dungeons with leper saints who growled and mumbled in dialects of Saracens and Moore's,...Girls with peacock countenances who performed mazurkas by levy's donned in feathered girdles raving about lost moments of lust with effeminate clerks who milked retarded deformed cows who performed catholic baptisms,..Sword wielding impresarios who took down civilizations with Hun like aggressions in ballet slippers on their tiptoes,.. Indentured ridiculous clowns kept captive by illicit African Brujo's in sanitarium's for French parachute instructors who swam in vats of tainted perfume,....This young revolutionary songwriter stalked........ Kris, bucky, and myself in those musty Buckhorn hallways, lacing us with musical themes of battering realities coupled with brilliant captivating melodies,..and you know, as guilty as as the music business I portray that does not tolerate the savant artist,. we in our stupidity ostracized this young composer,..rejected him until he drifted away like fuzz off a flowers crown,...decades later I still repent for my insensitivity and wonder what happened to that boy who called himself, JIM BUIE.