Tell me, who's that writin'?

I was away down the shore again this weekend, and didn't have a chance to put metaphorical pen to paper. I'll have more postings later, but just wanted to note this quick one: I picked up a rerun of an American Roots Music show on PBS last week (showed up on a Tivo wishlist); this episode was about various key artists at the heart of different roots lines - people like Jimmy Rodgers, Robert Johnson, the Carter Family, Bessie Smith, etc. Aside from assorted contemporary talking heads, they had some marvelous footage of the musicians, including some great clips of Uncle Dave Macon playing and clowning around on the Grand Ole Opry. But the clip that knocked me out was old Son House, doing John the Revelator. He was standing up and in motion, accompanying himself with just handclaps, preaching the song with his entire person. It was riveting in a totally spooky holy ghost kind of way. I didn't get saved, but I came damned close.