The musicians I've always loved are the ones that create a sound not of this earth. They're so unique, so visionary, that there are no reference points for what they create, no past that they seem to draw from. Hendrix is the most well known and most obvious example of this other-worldly sound. Listen to "Castles Made Of Sand" and tell me he wasn't dropped from the sky. Jazz Fusion guitarist Alan Holdsworth also seemed to have been transported from an alternate universe. With his enormous hands he created chord structures that only he could have played and created a sound like that of a smooth yet dissonant horn. Listen to his astonishing solo in "Devil Takes The Hindmost".
The genre of music that I played for over two decades, a chaotic sort of metal, was blessed by another of these visionaries. Steeve Hurdle was a monster of a man, a dude whose jagged rhythms and oddly melodic dissonance informed every note I played from the day I first heard him in 1998 until the last day I ever picked up a guitar. Steeve was able to create the soundtrack to the decades long car accident in my head and, while he struggled with his own demons, he strangled those fucking things every time he picked up a guitar. Steeve died from post surgical complications this past week. He'll be missed.