One of my first guitar solos was House of Rising Sun.
Chu Van An High School music room, with two electric guitars, one bass guitar and a drum set.
Long was on bass, Son counted the beat and Hung, son of a dancing instructor, played rhythm. And one, and two: Am, C …. And so we went on. Practice, practice and practice.
We not only developed our musical ability, we melted into a band, a team.
Do not play too loud. Let me lead.
Long’s smile will always stay with me. He often sat down (perhaps because we did not have enough guitar straps). Long is now dead.
The House of Rising Sun still sees the sun rising every morning. So is Long’s smile. Memories of yesterday are wired permanently in my brain. Nothing gonna change my world.
Yesterday. Imagine. How Can I Tell Her (when is it easy, telling someone that we’re through).
I visited New Orleans a couple of times, tried out Cafe Du Monde, even ate an allegator burger.
I tried to check out the neighborhood, to see which one best represent House of Rising Sun.
Last night, my date said when she first listened to this song, she had cried.
I figured, that’s why you were here with me over dinner. Got to have shared interests and shared emotions. House of Rising Sun, and Don’t let the sun go down on me…(E John).
Music evokes not only a time. It triggers and resonates long hidden emotions.
Where was that and when was it that we first heard that song. “The first time, I ever saw your face”.
And because Rock came to Vietnam during the war, Rock and anti-war sentiment seemed to be cousins.
To hear it those tunes again is to open up unprocessed pain.
Until one finds it “once again, in Green Fields”.
I know. It’s not “the end of the world” just yet, but it sure seems to be ended ‘when you said ‘goodbye'”.
House of Rising Sun. I miss you Long, guitarist, pianist, friend, teacher, husband and father. RIP. We soon will join you in that House of Rising Sun.
To bring the band back.
Thang Nguyen 555 