Anybody can play. The note is only 20 percent. The attitude of the motherfucker who plays it is 80 percent.
“The faint damp wind that, ere the even, blows
Piling the west with many a tawny sheaf,
Then when the last glad wavering hours are mown
Sigheth and dies because the day is sped;
This wind is like her and the listless air
Wherewith she goeth by beneath the trees,
The trees that mock her with their scarlet stain.”
Ezra Pound | “Canzon: The Yearly Slain”