Forty years after the brief, meteoric transit of Jimi Hendrix as a concert and recording artist, his impact still resembles the explosive crash of some unexpected visitation from outer

Forty years after the brief, meteoric transit of Jimi Hendrix as a concert and recording artist, his impact still resembles the explosive crash of some unexpected visitation from outer space – or perhaps, more appropriately, an avatar of a higher power, who didn’t merely play the guitar but plucked the raw sinews of the heart and soul, and bent the superstings of time and space.

Devotees do tend to speak of him in religious terms. As Gary Kamiya wrote for Salon.com: “There''s only one church in rock: the First Congregational Church of the Guitar. And Jimi Hendrix owns that turf. There are a lot of ways you can become a rock legend, but the best way is the simplest: play the guitar better than anyone else. And Jimi didn''t just shut everybody else down, he burned them alive, toasted them, left a whole Gibson nation gaping with this dumbfounded look on their faces and the axes falling from their lifeless fingers. He Michael Jordaned their hapless asses, and they thanked him for the honor.”

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