For a long time I would go to bed late. I had Are You Experienced in tablature and spent whole nights learning to play those songs sitting on the couch under a single light in the living room. Sometimes I’d pause, the fingers of my left hand humming, buzzing all the way up into my arm, and there’d be no music and the only sound then was the whistle of trains passing over the tracks in Quincy and it was such a lonely aching lovely sound that I took it to bed and it became a part of me.