Thank you, Bruce, for honoring our remarkable friend Rod. Please contact me about plans to gather order to celebrate his life and work, so tragically cut short. I'll be there.

I recall one gig at a small coffee shop in Venice where as usual, Rod mesmerized the
audience, taking us to another level for about a third of an hour with one of his ostinato-like improvised pieces. I remember looking around the room at the glazed faces who'd just witnessed Rod at his usual, road-yet-untraveled virtuosic best. The applause was deafening and went on for over a minute. At one point in the intense, often soft solo, the sound was intersected by that of a passing siren from the street, oblivious to the fact that it was a sort of obscure, sad omen. Like at this hour (I learned of Rod's passing from John Schneider on the air yesterday on KPFK) words fail to convey the import of the moment and the rush of focused emotion that Rod sparked by his intense devotion to new music and audiences. We've lost a great talent, for sure.

What a loss--he was so young, so vital. So much for our plan to record... but memories of fun times visiting/discussing/sharing musical experiences remain. Rod Poole will most certainly be missed by not only the LA new music scene, but lovers of great new/avant garde music everywhere. I hope that in some small way I can honor the legacy of this truly unique human being. Please stay in touch, and stay strong, Bruce my friend. Peace! For real. I'm still in shock from this tragic news.

Tribute to Rod Poole
By Brent Bloom

My fondest memories of Rod Poole were back in the music business days of Hollywood, California. I was living at 801 N Las Palmas in Waring Manor and eventually met Rod in the late 90s, who lived downstairs. We became friends that shared optimater, incense, and hours of very late night music in my apartment upstairs. We listened to “Jump on Top of Me, Baby” by the Stones many of times, and Rod would always say, “That is the real band!” The time spent listening was a great experience because Rod showed me so many new historical perspectives of Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, The Flying Burrito Brothers/Gram Parsons, Sun Ra, true old school Ska/Reggae (Lee Perry), Prince Buster, John Fahey, Leo Kothe—simply 6- and 12-string guitar!

I was always knocking on his door, seeing him in his plush blue robe with the kettle always going off, food being prepared or the empty can of baked beans, and talking and listening to “Live at Leeds” – vinyl versus new extensions on CD! The days of Rhino Records, Saturday vinyl sales, or conquering Aarons! Those days are memories that a monetary state will never understand, and we barely got by, but money could be found for music and fine German malt liquor beer. Seeing him perform at that old, tiny Hollywood theatre or in his apartment –we both had problems dealing with the outside noise of Las Palmas and Waring. Discussing Hendrix, Zeppelin, Zappa, the blues in general, was amazing. As a friend, Rob helped me survive in Hollywood when I was preparing to leave the music business back before MP3, downloading, early DVD. Rod was there for me, and all that was on our brains was vinyl, books, and historical perspectives of all avenues!

One of the last people I said goodbye to was Rod—we drank a few beers on top of Waring Manor and my road was back home. It has been nine years since the departure, but our friendship continued on a phone level that I will deeply miss. My regret is that the last time we talked was in September, when I returned from a Blues festival in Grafton, Wisconsin. Paramount recorded some historical 78rpm discs there. We conversed for awhile and, as friends, always shared stories together.

A week before Rod’s death, Les Paul was in his hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin. Now I regret not sharing this experience with Rod. Rod, you will be greatly missed by the world because you were an original in a not-so-original place called Hollywood. To have shared so many conversations together on the lost land line phone concept of meaningful exchange of ideas, history, philosophy, and life in general will be a void for many worldwide!

And I can’t forget our vinyl outings of “Exile on Main Street” many a late night, and Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac historical film on VHS. Those guys are loaded – no real playing, no real vocals – Hollywood. Not to mention Rainbow Bridge and sharing my dad’s copy of “The Monterey Pops Festival Program”, and “Gimme Shelter” (they hit Marty).

Garcia responds, “Bummer, man!”

Your laugh,

I raise my wine glass to a true original that made so much happen. You will be missed by me.

Cheers, mate,

Your friend,
Brent