I knew John Cage from the beginning of 1976 through May 1978 and worked with him the last eight months of that time. He was the most brilliant musician I have ever met. Utter genius.
I once told him “You are the greatest musical mind of the 20th century and I want to follow in your footsteps”, He said “No, I want you to find your own path”.
I didn't listen to this sagacious advice for three years after my studies with Cage had come to an end. Instead, I moved to Atlanta, started the Noise Orchestra (which allowed no tone producing instruments and refused all money...for purity's sake)...I was living the Cagean aesthetic to perfection.
Then one day in 1979, Bruce Hampton (a monster musical talent of the South) brought over Son House's Levee Camp Moan.
He, like me, was brought up military tough. Feelings were not part of our expressive vernacular.
As we listened we both began to cry uncontrollably.
I suddenly realized what Cage meant that day. I was brought up listening to the emotionally packed blues guitar bends and vibrato of Hendrix...
Bruce Hampton
Cage, as usual, was right...