Юрий, я отлично знаю ТУ музыку... могу не знать "третий эшелон", это да, но я им мало интересовался, поскольку - банально и скучно.

но музыку мало просто ЗНАТЬ - потому что надо еще и понимать, что в ней к чему.
вот скажите, зачем вы привели в пример выше этот ролик Derek & The Doninos - как пример подражания Хендриксу?? надеюсь, что нет... потому что это ни разу не подражание... а я ведь имел в виду не каверы от разных исполнителей, а именно ПОДРАЖАНИЯ - вот как The Monkeys откровенно подражали ранним Битлам.

а так песни Хендрикса перепевали все, кто только могли (и те, кто не могли, к сожалению, тоже). вот только стиль Хендрикса так почти никто из рок-музыкантов не смог "продолжить и развить" в те самые 60-е годы действительно творчески.
за исключением блюзменов - того же Бадди Гая (у которого, впрочем, сам Хендрикс до своей славы многому научился), который не был популярен в рок-кругах и о котором мало кто знал тогда.

это уже потом - позже - появились и Стиви Рэй Воэн и другие таланты, но ведь разговор-то идет о шестидесятых... и о том, что музыка Хендрикса на деле совсем не проста... а вот Derek & The Doninos изрядно, кстати, ее упростили!

насчет альбома Хендрикса The Blues могу только сказать, что вот в этой работе вы совсем не разобрались и наплели о ней откровенную чушь... что за "воссозданный с помощью приглашённых в студию музыкантов" - откуда это вообще "всплыло"? вы хоть почитайте о самих вещах с альбома - откуда они взялись... да хоть даже на вики почитайте - там все подробно написано.
да там даже из 11 вещей прежде не было издано всего 6... из-за неважного качества самой записи... но качество ж записи здесь не главное - а главное, это сама МУЗЫКА!
а музыка изумительна - настоящий блюз!!

позволю себе добавить сюда статью об этом альбоме из журнала Guitar World, а потом перестану уж мешать вам наслаждаться и дальше третьеразрядным эшелоном 60-х... который вы почему-то так упорно "продвигаете".

Цитата:From Guitar World

Let’s get the paradoxes out of the way right up front: the blues was a musical space to which Jimi Hendrix would always return in order to recharge his musical and spiritual batteries but, once refreshed, he generally couldn’t wait to leave.

The blues was ever-present in everything he did; it was something that traveled with him into musical realms unimaginable to others, something he carried with him into songs and pieces which had nothing whatsoever to do with the conventional structures and themes of the blues, into worlds which the music’s traditional grandmasters wouldn’t recognise as blues – or even as music. When he started out from a classical blues theme, he as likely as not ended up with something else entirely; but when he began with something strangely, terrifying, beautifully alien, it always turned back, one way or another, into the blues.

This collection of vault-gleanings – some never before released, others disinterred from long-deleted vinyl, all new to the US CD market – can therefore tell us only part of the story of Hendrix’s complex love affair with the blues. Mostly jams and outtakes, they find Hendrix with his pants down: goofing, exploring and just plain havin’ fun. We get two versions of ‘Red House’: one a jam with organist Lee Michaels, the other from the original UK version of Are You Experienced and, for my money, an infinitely deeper and funkier take than the one on the current CD. There are two radically different versions of ‘Hear My Train A-Comin’’: an impromptu 12-string acoustic performance which provides a vague idea of how Robert Johnson might have sounded if he’d smoked a lotta weed and lived to hear James Brown, and a monumental 12-minute live jam marred only by severe tuning problems and the fact that the rhythm section – Billy Cox (bass) and Mitch Mitchell (drums) – drag the tempo down a notch as soon as they make their entrance. There’s an early take of the slow-blues version of ‘Voodoo Chile’, the one just before it coalesced into the monumental performance you can hear on Electric Ladyland. There’s an ear-opening romp through Muddy Waters’ ‘Manish Boy’ – better known to Bo Diddley fans as ‘I’m A Man’ – which gets the same uptempo funkanisation that Hendrix gave Howlin’ Wolf’s ‘Killing Floor’ and B.B. King’s ‘Rock Me Baby’ at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival. There are a couple of intensely variable slow blues efforts, ‘Bleeding Heart’ (a.k.a. ‘Blues In C Sharp’) and ‘Once I Had A Woman’, the former a fine and funky performance with the Experience and the latter flawed by some truly rotten mouth-harp and the audible wax-ing and waning of Hendrix’s interest in the proceedings. And there’s an insanely bouncy 12/8 shuffle, ‘Jelly 292’, which – along with the Are You Experienced ‘Red House’ – should be this album’s first port of call for Stevie Ray Vaughan fans. There’s another Muddy dive with ‘Catfish Blues’, similar to the cut on Rykodisc’s Radio One CD but with the added bonus of a revved-up ‘showtime’ finale.

And then there’s ‘Born Under A Bad Sign’. This Albert King standard, custom-composed for the late lamented Big Guy by Booker T. Jones and William Bell in 1967 and covered by Cream almost immediately after its original release, starts out as you’d expect, with Hendrix putting his own unique spin on Albert’s time-honoured licks and bends, but before he even has an opportunity to open his mouth and sing the song, the Strat runs away with him. That riff becomes the springboard for some of the most thoroughly ‘outside’ stuff Hendrix ever played, a full guided tour around the musical attic where Hendrix kept toys old and new. You can leave if you want to – just jammin’ is all – but you won’t want to. Tone, timing, phrasing, attack, sense of space: if anyone needs reminding that Hendrix had it all, here’s your wake-up call.

Needless to say, some of this stuff is rough as hell: as well it might be, since most of it was never intended for release. Fluffed words, out-of-tune guitars and dropped beats fly all over the place, and if that kind of stuff upsets you, consider this a 3-star album and stick to the regular Hendrix albums. This one is for blues buffs and Hendrix freaks, and for them – or should I come clean and say us – this one earns all of its five stars.

This music was made around a quarter of a century ago. Nevertheless, despite all that’s happened since in the guitar world via the Eddies and Randies and Yngwies and Stevie Rays and Joes and Steves and Nunos and Dimebags, Hendrix still sounds like a contemporary. And a leading, cutting-edge contemporary at that. If you play blues and you want to step up to some new ways of approaching traditional materials – or if you play rock and you want to inject some tough new blues into your musical muscles – just walk this way.