I spend a lot of time gobbling cookies and reading rock bios, the male counterpart to the housewife jug of ice cream w/romance novel. This is ironclad evidence that I'm a loser, but one benefit of all that pathetic fantacizing is the joy of watching as Steve Marriott of Humble Pie pops up in dozens of rock history tomes, He auditioned for Mick Taylor's spot in The Rolling Stones. AC/DC first thought of him to replace the late Bon Scott. He influenced every muscian who's ever sat for an interview, and they without exception laud him as the greatest white blues rock voice ever ever ever. Not to mention his songwriting, guitar playing, band leadership, totally 'it' personality, and rather corking taste in duds. The first time I typed that taste in dudes. And how wise of me to point that out.
Marriott died on this day in 1991, when his asshole house caught fire while the rocker slumbered. I hate this fucking expression but here goes Do yourself a favor and take time on Weed Day to gander up at the George Washington on my Mount Stevemore, Steve Marriott, mega-badass. If the monster-riff/screaming tone/godly hooks of Humble Pie cause your wang/wangina to excessively tingle and throb, it's not lame for you to step over to Marriott's barely less awesome band The Small Faces if you're feeling foppish. That was his band from age 18 - 22. He was so cool that he died on 420.