Parenting & Family Quote by Tina Weymouth

Weymouth is doing two things at once: giving Richard Lloyd his flowers and casually mythologizing the downtown New York rock pipeline that Television helped define. The first sentence is fan talk, plain and generous. The second and third shift into origin-story mode, where a guitarist stops being merely “good” and becomes a carrier of sacred fire. Dropping Hendrix’s name isn’t just a flex; it’s a cultural shortcut that signals seriousness, danger, and invention without needing technical description.

The phrasing matters. “Mentor” suggests structure and lineage, but “when he was just 14” injects awe and a little disbelief, like the scene is already half-legend. Then Weymouth punctures any romantic notion of gentle guidance: “Jimi was always pounding everything he knew into that kid.” “Pounding” is visceral, almost bodily. It frames learning as impact, not instruction - the transmission of style as something relentless, physical, maybe even overwhelming. Hendrix isn’t depicted as a distant icon but as an impatient craftsman, shoving knowledge across the table before it disappears.

There’s subtext here about how talent gets made in music culture: not purely by solitary genius, but by proximity, apprenticeship, and scenes where the right people collide at the right age. Coming from Weymouth - a key architect of art-rock cool - it also reads as a nod to credibility politics. She’s telling you why Lloyd matters, but she’s also reminding you that this whole era ran on intense mentorship, obsessive practice, and the pressure-cooker intimacy of musicians teaching musicians before the world was watching.