Some songs are so closely associated with their creators that covering them feels almost dangerous.
“Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” was one of those songs.
But in 1989, in Austin, Texas, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble took on Jimi Hendrix’s legendary blues-rock storm—and instead of trying to reproduce Hendrix, Vaughan turned it into something unmistakably his own.
Hendrix had been Stevie’s hero. His music was one of the reasons Vaughan picked up a Stratocaster in the first place. So when Stevie played “Voodoo Child,” he wasn’t simply performing a famous song.
He was answering his idol.
The difference was in the way he played it.
There was no attempt to sound exactly like Hendrix. Vaughan attacked the song with the vocabulary of Texas blues—thick guitar tone, explosive bends, vicious vibrato and an almost physical intensity. Hendrix’s psychedelic fire was still there, but Stevie pushed it through his own musical identity.
The result felt less like a cover and more like a conversation between two generations of guitar players.
And Vaughan had plenty to say.
By the late 1980s, the blues was hardly the dominant force in popular music. The genre that had influenced generations of rock musicians was increasingly being treated as something from another era.
Then Stevie Ray Vaughan arrived.
He absorbed the lessons of blues giants such as Muddy Waters, Albert King and Otis Rush, mixed them with the explosive spirit of Hendrix, and delivered the music with a ferocity that made the electric guitar feel dangerous again.
He didn’t simply preserve the blues.
He made it feel alive.
That is what makes the 1989 footage so powerful today.
Knowing what happened afterward adds an almost unbearable layer to every note.
Just one year later, Stevie Ray Vaughan would be gone.
On August 27, 1990, after performing alongside Eric Clapton, Buddy Guy and Robert Cray, Vaughan boarded a helicopter following the concert. The helicopter crashed shortly after takeoff, killing Vaughan and everyone else aboard.
He was only 35 years old.
By then, Vaughan had fought his way through serious addiction and was entering one of the strongest creative periods of his career. His playing had matured, his confidence was enormous, and the future seemed wide open.
There was no indication that his life was about to end.
So when you watch Stevie Ray Vaughan tearing through “Voodoo Child” in 1989, you’re seeing something more than an extraordinary guitarist paying tribute to his hero.
You’re watching an artist at full power.
A man who took inspiration from Hendrix but refused to live in his shadow.
A blues guitarist who helped pull an old sound into a new generation.
And a musician who had no idea that the clock was already running out.
Hendrix created the storm. Stevie Ray Vaughan learned from it—and then created his own.









