The first time I heard this song, I think, was when Mike played it for me. In the style of Stevie Ray Vaughan covering the Hendrix original. Watching Mike play guitar (and listening to him – Liz can attest to this), was kinda like art. And sex. I defy most women to watch his hands while he’s playing and remain… uninspired. So immediately connections were grown in my brain relating to this song.
Then a while later, we were hanging out one evening drinking beer, Carlsberg, as I recall – it was during the World Cup and there were flags of different countries under the caps – and watching a video of Stevie Ray at the El Mocambo. I got very… tense. Heh. (Mike and I weren’t fooling around yet at that point.) More connections. I mean, Stevie Ray’s music, in general, to me is sexy as all hell, but once you start connecting it to something or someone tangible? Yowza.
I haven’t listened to the song in ages. I haven’t intentionally avoided it, just… haven’t. Then I had it on last night. It was as a result of a conversation about what the best cover of a song ever is. It totally took me aback when that song was brought up. (Not sure I can argue the point…) And totally took me back, too. So I cranked up iTunes and… yeah… still good stuff. Although, interestingly, not so much tied to Mike anymore. Which is probably a good thing. 🙂