taste the maggot

funkadelic guitarist eddie hazel died on 12/23/92, or christmas eve eve. it ain't no christmas carol, but his maggot brain is a proper listen on the longest, coldest night of the year. if you enjoy john frusciante's sad and supple pentatonic minor riffs, you might appreciate mr. hazel's opus.

there are many stories about the song, which remains a staple of late-night radio in cleveland. my eddie hazel story is about how a late-night college beef escalated, as maggot brain rose to a crescendo behind us. it went something like this:

1. maggot brain eases in,
2. uggen praises hazel,
3. rival dismisses hazel as "cheap hendrix ripoff,"
4. uggen advises rival to maybe shut up for a second and clean the (stuff) out of his ears,
5. rival calls uggen a (fornicating) dork idiot freak,
6. uggen calls rival a (fornicating) racist who thinks all black guitarists sound the same.
7. rival, to his credit, actually considers this possibility.
8. uggen acknowledges certain strat-based hendrix/hazel similarities.
9. rival and uggen turn it up and listen together.
10. maggot brain eases out.