About Stevie
The Stevie in StevieSnacks refers to the one and only Stevie Ray Vaughan. I pretty much assumed that anyone who finds this site already knows that, but just in case, let me write my personal thoughts on who he was.
What Stevie Meant To Me
Stevie Ray Vaughan’s music helped me deal with something I couldn’t identify because I didn’t know what it was. That thing was depression.
My teenage years were a roller coaster of emotions. I had great friends, but was also terribly lonely at the same time. People just thought I was moody, and so did I. My scattered bouts of depression were amplified by a tremendous need for acceptance, especially when those needs were met by rejection in any number of ways.
I just remember feeling overwhelmed, and even when there was cause for some sadness, the level to which a bad situation would affect my mood was incredibly deep. I didn't know that what I was going through could be expressed by music, because I didn't know that there was anything wrong. All I knew was that it hurt, bad.
I heard Stevie’s music right before my first year of college. The album was “The Sky Is Cryin”, and the song was the same. I was working at Clair Brother’s Audio in Lititz, PA a the time, in the speaker department, building these huge speakers for some U2 tour or something. We had a serious sound system there for testing the speakers, and the album was cranked. I remember clear as day telling a co-worker: “Now THAT, is how I want to play guitar”.
Fast forward a few months. I had already seen Stevie on SNL playing “Say What”. I had already been transfixed as I watched him destroy that stage with his guitar and wah-wah pedal. I had already caught the bug. But I still didn’t know why.
Then one day while visiting my parents on break from college, I rented “Live at El Mocambo”. I watched with some interest until he got to Texas Flood. Again, I was glued to my seat. I couldn’t move. In the words of Neo from the Matrix, I felt “Something’s different”. As Stevie ripped into the solo, he starts off with his trademark bend, the Albert King influence coming through strong, and as he begins the response to the first bend, he starts bending that big fat 12 gauge string up, up, till you think your soul is going to start bleeding. The camera looks down the neck at the guitar, he leans front turns his face to the camera and I saw something that changed my life.
At 29 minutes and 36 seconds into that DVD, my life made sense in a way I had never experienced before.
In that instant, Stevie looked exactly as I felt inside. His guitar cried the same way I had heard myself cry inside for reasons I didn’t even understand. For the first time, I saw and heard something that mirrored what had been going on inside of me for years.
If you could paint a picture of what I felt like all those times I was angry, frustrated, and felt like my world was caving in, it would like like Stevie in that moment, bending that string, giving it everything he had.
Playing guitar didn't get rid of depression. But it gave me an outlet. There was finally a way I could express how I felt. That is why I cringe every time I hear someone criticize a young kid for trying to sound like Stevie. That kid just might be doing it for the same reasons I did.
Some people learn to play like Stevie because they are amazed by his skill. I learned because I had to.