The Witnesses Story 

And it came to pass. Popular blues and rhythm beatsters Steppin’ Out were no more, and two men sought solace in the music of Lefty, Johnny and Hank.  And after many long days and dark nights the men found a kindred musical spirit and his name was Paul.  And Paul sang of brakemen and of broken men with hearts and minds asunder and of bottles sucked dry to numb the pain.  And many testified that Paul’s voice was fair and true.  And two men became three men, spending four score nights singing and supping and bearing witness to the power of the white man’s blues.  And others sat amongst them to pick and pluck until five witnesses were born and rock rolled and dum truly chinged in the valleys and towns.

But not everyone did rejoice.  Men spake of the minstrel’s ancient tones and cursed them as their tones were loud also.  And innkeepers denied them on the threshold as the men’s countenances were vexatious and un-glad also.

And in time brows furrowed and oaths were uttered and lyres and reeds fell silent and men left the fold vowing never to return.  And some did leave never to return or be heard of again.  And there were more long days and dark nights when the wind howled and rain teemed down and there was no rhythm or rhyme or musical voices in the valleys and towns.

And years passed and the flame waxed and waned but it would not die.  New days dawned and other men came forth - men of fortitude and spirit - to carry the torch and praise all that was worthy and righteous in rock’n’roll.  And in time prodigals returned to sit and sup and talk of days of yore when Mr Van Zandt sang of St John the Gambler and Lorreta and Tejan songster PJ spake of balladeers and broadsides from Corpus Christie to the banks of the Irwell Delta.

And in time lyres were restrung and lyrics scribed and hummed anew, with harmonies madrigal and sweet over a beat that was steady and true again.  And the beat went on and the beat goes on, and on and on, the beat goes on…