Rock and roll ain't nothing but jazz with a hard backbeat.
Keith RichardsRead
I mean, give me a guitar, give me a piano, give me a broom and string, I wouldn't get bored anywhere.
Interpretation
The enjoyment of music can transform any situation into a joyful experience.
In this quote, Keith Richards expresses the idea that music is an integral part of life that provides endless joy and creativity. He suggests that with any instrument, even unconventional ones like a broom and string, he can create music and find entertainment, highlighting the importance of artistic expression and the ability to find contentment in simplicity.
In practice
During a music workshop, you can use this quote to encourage participants to find joy in creating music, no matter their skill level.
Rock and roll ain't nothing but jazz with a hard backbeat.
Everyone talks about rock these days; the problem is they forget about the roll.
There's just certain styles of playing that you do play in your own way. Maybe it's in the way your fingers bend, for all I know. And so whenever you pick up the guitar it's not so much the sound of the instrument itself, it's like the ting that you add onto it-the attitude.
If you've gotta think about being cool, you ain't cool.
If you don't know the blues... there's no point in picking up the guitar and playing rock and roll or any other form of popular music.
There's something beautifully friendly and elevating about a bunch of guys playing music together. This wonderful little world that is unassailable. It's really teamwork, one guy supporting the others, and it's all for one purpose, and there's no flies in the ointment, for a while. And nobody conducting, it's all up to you. It's really jazz__that's the big secret. Rock and roll ain't nothing but jazz with a hard backbeat.
A poet is the creator of the nation around him, he gives them a world to see and has their souls in his hand to lead them to that world.
Beauty ...is of the great facts in the world like sunlight, or springtime, or the reflection in dark water of that silver shell we call the moon.
My mirror probes down to the heart. I write words on the forehead and around the corners of the mouth. My human faces are truer than the real ones.
But it's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. If you can take it seriously, we can do business. If you can't or won't, it's time for you to close the book and do something else. Wash the car, maybe.
Let your fiction grow out of the land beneath your feet.
Then what shall I write? I can't just write that this happened then this happened then this happened to boring infinitum. I'll let my journal grow just like the mind does, just like a tree or beast does, just like life does. Why should a book tell a tale in a dull straight line? Words should wander and meander. They should fly like owls and flicker like bats and slip like cats. They should murmur and scream and dance and sing.
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