The best part about experiencing a Shane Gooding show is that you never, ever forget you saw Shane Gooding sing. Concurrently you fought the urge to dance and felt time change listening to some of the most authentic and skilled guitar playing in town. There are hardly a handful of real artists today walking the streets of Southern California who play a couple hundred songs and actually wrote some of the better ones. His overall talent is staggering, and his inspiring charisma is supported by a natural stage presence that screams originality. Crowds consist mostly of people who value good songwriting: college kids, jealous musicians and interestingly enough, really fun-loving lesbians. Currently playing shows at some of the most respected Long Beach and Los Angeles venues and channeling a raw, matter-of-fact soulful roots folk/blues reminiscent of a young Bob Dylan, Mr. Gooding will undoubtedly one day earn a page in the history books of American music. The East-Coast rock and roll scene was the backdrop to his musical maturation and his influences range from Leadbelly to Al Green on through Nirvana and Nas. A subject of two upcoming Hollywood documentaries and essentially living the lifestyle of the rarest undiscovered poet/musical gems of the modern scene, it is our honor to see him perform before his planned European tour in April. Shane Gooding has finished two home recorded albums- one of his solo acoustic music and the other a sophomore rock and roll manifesto entitled "Patients" on which he plays drums, bass and electric/acoustic guitars. It was recorded in his friend's garage.
Ah man, you popped into my head today. Wondering how things are on the other side. You should drop in sometime and rattle the lamps or something. Take care my friend.
dude, Jack and I went to The Pike on your birthday I think of you every once in a while, check out this poem I wrote (an everyone else on myspace):
Resurrection - to Shane Gooding
I want to take a close up picture of your lips- and her left eye... So many imitations of perfection: Light and sound vibrating to our senses.
Yet so few could match those moments, when I felt no pain and the sun kissed the moon.
Curled up for sleep, I wonder what dreams remain.
Imitations of perfection, the best we could do; The return of the cool - Resurrection
Sending a melody out into space.
Will it reverberate, bring us good luck? A divine blessing like free will and angry atheists So many opinions, I forgot most of mine The battery runs down, energy dissipates and age sets in Death, Resurrection.
The tiny infant sleeps symmetrical, so much more beautiful on the eyes, but so naive.
Will it remember? The return of the cool - Resurrection?
This is to you old friend.
We still go in circles, return to the same places, reminisce and wobble in mediocrity - for the most part.
I wish you would ask me a question and I could answer the best I can.
Dear muse, where are you? Would you return and sit on my lap, tell me your new stories and spark my memories again.
If one of us became rich and famous, who will take out the trash and sympathize with the poor.
And what of the impetus to move, learn and create...
This one's for all the people who are following Shane via a web of nonsense... Today is the actual anniversary where Mr. Gooding found the light. May we all fight to find a light, to be a light for another, and to honor and respect all the blessings who shine above and beyond us, now.
dude, it's amazing how we can channel you in a car or the studio just by mentioning your name (and maybe gett'n stoned too)... Guess who blocked me on myspace :-)... Your album is soooo freak'n on point, glad you put it together. Can't say I miss ya, because your spirit is still accessible ain't it? The scene and every day of my life is not the same (since I ain't spending it with you out here, miss nights of Jazz and Aqua Teen at Grandma's). Love ya man.
Remember when we used to play the Nintendo Power Pad, the Olympic game, whatever it was. Dad would go nuts from us running like idiots on it right about his head. We didn't even run, we just like mashed our feet on it as fast as we could. He would scream "You are going to break the house!".
Oh my god, I am sitting here laughing out loud about that right now. Maria and I still make him say things he can't pronounce or that he says funny, it never gets old.
I remember when we were sitting around playing cards in your room, we didn't even have the TV on and Dad yelled upstairs "don't put on channel 9 (or whatever)" and you jumped right up to put it on so we could see what it was and you stood there with your finger on the button of the TV so you could turn it off right away if he caught us and it was some fucked up show called "Pee Wee's Play with Himself House". Why did he even tell us the channel? HA. But we ended up watching the whole show with you standing there with you finger on the power button.
My sides hurt from laughing.
I miss you, but I am so thankful for these memories.
I listened to Dig 17 times today--writing a short story everyone else thinks is unbearably morbid, thinking of you, and that you know it's a love story. miss your physical incarnation much.
Duuude. I just got Risk: Global Domination for PS2. I wish you were around so we could play it together. Speaking of global domination, how does the new world order look from outer space? Seriously.
