There must be something very important in those first impressions of reality, the sights, the smell, and sounds of those significant occasions when the authenticity of life is unmistakable. That crucial moment when creation screams your name and the sheer truth of your own personal mythology begins to take shape. . . . Just a kid somewhere on the Kansas prairie one crisp spring morning when a gentle breeze, that would later in the day turn ragged and brutal, brought through an open window the sweet scent of sage brush, the first of those gifts of the senses never to be forgotten. Many musicians and singers recall their first encounter with the power of music as having taken place in church. That was my experience in those early years of childhood also. I remember two things about church music, primarily most of it I did not like, and second the one song that never failed to affect me emotionally no matter the arrangement, instrumentation, or how inadequate the singing, was 'The Old Rugged Cross'. That song was my introduction to the overwhelming power of melody, and it moves me to this day despite any afore mentioned human weaknesses. I call that feeling, 'high lonesome' and many years later living in California I discovered it again when I began writing songs and locked myself away with 'Hank Williams 25 Greatest Hits' album to try and absorb what real Country Music was all about. Music along with most everything else in my childhood place and time was pretty simple, I had not been introduced to classical music or jazz, Lawrence Welk didn't do much for me, and like I said I couldn't relate to much of the church music. My next inspiration was Johnny Cash tunes that crackled out of my Dad's pick up radio bouncing down a gravel road. I vowed right then and there that what ever it was behind his voice, I would learn to make that raw sound myself. Before the string of garage bands I played in that often trudged and sometimes romped through the current top forty hits, I was introduced simultaneously to Frank Zappa, Howlin' Wolf, Jimmy Reed, Lightnin' Hopkins, Muddy Waters, and most of all John Lee Hooker stuck in my head. That unrefined, barely under control emotional urgency of his voice will always haunt me. The Rolling Stones and ZZ Top were able to capture the essence of it. The Beatles were incapable of it, but the cleverness and beauty of their pop style certainly captured my ear. Not much more can be said about my influences except for the guitar, and then all I have to do is mention Neil Young and Stevie Ray Vaughn, what more can be said?