64 bars during a slow blues. That's the longest I've had the pleasure of experiencing while hosting a blues jam. On a Fender twin cranked to 12 no less. It was... memorable.
Yes, that guy hosts a jam every Wednesday night. 18 minute versions of Knockin' on Heaven's Door are fairly routine.
At a local jam night a month ago, after the house band, the house bass player/"organizer" puts me and my drummer friend (his first time playing in maybe 15 years) up with this guy that was there. Never seen him before in two years. That guy. After about 5-6 minutes of "jamming" in A, no chord progression, just A, the drummer gets up and leaves; I made it another couple of minutes. Went through every permutation of A scales I could think of. People in the crowd are obviously irritated, checking out their shoes, non-smokers are going out for a puff, anything but listening. The guy kept going another couple of minutes. The thing was, this dude was some sort of idiot-savant; my goodness could he shred. Malmsteen on acid. But for no purpose whatsoever other than itself. My drummer buddy never got back up when asked, and said he's never going back there again. The organizer thought it was funny. He's a warped individual. I called him something related to a certain bodily orifice. So later the weird dude's friend gets up on acoustic and is singing, and is doing decent. Others go up to play along. I get sent up to replace the organizer and play along with the friend and the house drummer. We're doing pretty damned good. Some young woman, toasted, gets up during a blues number and proceeds to wail some simply outstanding vocals. Yeah, life is getting better. Then savant gets up in a couple more songs, and I'm thinking oh, boy, here we go again. Wow, once in an organized structure, the guy could add all kinds of great grace notes, accents to the singer, sweet riffs, just awesome! Nice little fills, some decent rhythm licks, too. His buddy kept him on-track and life was good. Yeah man, that's why I'm here; this, the friends and the beer! Then we got to a solo... I just unplugged, handed the organizer his bass, and walked right out the door after the third time around the progression. And if that dude ever shows up again I'm just leaving. If it wasn't the only jam night in 30 miles, I wouldn't go back at all.