Richard Brandenberg on Maynard

Richard Brandenburg,
I was Maynard's college roommate at Lindenwood College in St Charles Missouri, in 1970-71. When I met him, he was a Philosophy major already (at 19) steeped in the blues of being a Portuguese (Portugee) from Vineyard Haven, whose Dad managed the graveyard... Maynard was a deep, and intense young man. I smoked dope with him, tripped with him, loved him like a brother, and, being an uncontainable artist, he drove me nuts. He was a wild young man in 1970. He was in deeply in love with a woman in town named Adrienne. He introduced me that year to Muddy Waters, Paul Butterfield, Geoff Muldaur, Taj Mahal, and Magic Sam, among others... He was absolutely, all about the eccentric, die-if-you-can't-get-it-out expression of life's most profound sorrows. He sat up nights speeding and tripping on acid, and seriously arguing philosophy, as only a young man can do. I feel privileged to have known (and argued with) him in those times. He added existential funk, slide guitar, darkness and harmonica to the roots/blues/country group "Orphan Egg". Maynard took off from college for a while with Tom Greer, to hang out with Bukka White, and came back a changed man. He raved at me for the remainder of his time at Lindenwood about Bukka, and the absolute necessity of playing from the gut. I lost track of him, over the next 20 years, but guessed I'd find him around Vineyard Haven. Ten years ago, I found his number, and called him. We talked about his son, Milo, of whom he was even more proud than of his music. I was working my way back to playing and writing, and his encouragement was the Philosopher's Stone itself: he told me, "Whatever level you're playing at, man, it's all the same; your pleasure is gonna be the same pleasure, whether you're playing two chords or too many chords..." He was absolutely encouraging. He told me about Portuguese (Cape Verdean) Morna music, and Fado; he considered himself an artist in those traditions as well as the Black American Blues. Future scholars of North American strains of this music, take note: Maynard knew where his roots were. He sent me his current CDs with the Hutto & the New Hawks, and some articles... I saw where my old friend had gone, and how far he had come, and felt proud to know him, bragging about how I knew him when we were truly the new hawks... If you stumbled on this name and this story, look further; Maynard Silva was the real deal. He lived his whole life inside the genius of the blues, because he fit it perfectly. Maynard, old friend, I'm crying as I write it, and remembering you: I'm driftin' and driftin', like a ship out on the sea... My life is richer around the real things, because we were young men together, Maynard. Thank you, and goodbye...
March 30, 2009 - 1:02am

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