Jouir de la Musique

Hearing the keyboard player hitting blue chords with his right hand, hammering with his thumb and pinky. Left hand walks. Or Chick flowing on the keys like a cool stream in the desert.

The words, flowing from the likes of Chris Martin and Jack Johnson, from Sting, from Paul Simon and Jackson Browne, from Dylan.

How do we account for Bob Dylan or the soul in the deep rumble of Johnny Cash or the gliss and light of Stevie Wonder or the genius of Ray Charles? Louis Armstrong and Nat King Cole and Billie Holiday are unexplainable. Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra and Thelonious Monk, stepping from one to the other around brilliant corners.

From Stanley Jordan to Geddy Lee to John Patitucci, almost underground, laying tracks for the trains to ride. Stevie Ray Vaughn eating his strings, pulling life out of them. Hendrix and Clapton and B.B. King, Van Halen, and Johnny Lang and Satriani, their picks and fingers like butterfly wings grazing the strings, ringing. Elvis Costello, singing his vibrato, shaping his phrasing, aiming true, or the Elvis Brothers stomping the downbeat all over the stage, trying to touch a piece of what made that boy from Memphis sing like he did.

Pat Boone did his best, but, you know: “hold it fellas, that don’t move me,” like Elvis Presley looking to get real real gone for a change.

Lock into the pocket of Weckyl and Kunkel and Colaiuta. Pop.

Hey. Hey. Hey. I may know what’s happening here. If not knowledge, then feel. I feel it...

I feel the band, playing behind me, falling right on the beat, rock solid, right in line, giving me a notion that the world has some sense to it. Oh, the big E chord ringing out, shouting at the world.

I feel the right phonemes, piecing together the right words in the right sentences, with the phrasing exactly as it somehow should be. I feel the contrary motion, the harmonic lines, making peace with the melody in a weary world. The feel of guitar strings under my fingers, resisting enough to sing. The back beat strikes and pulls back, strikes again, through my heart.

There’s something about the first chord of a song. Finding it. Playing it. Using it to get to the next chord and the first word that leads to the rest until an idea is formed, certain syllables rolling off the tongue, attached to other, just right, certain syllables, shaped into words and phrases, resting on patterns and changes that carry not just ideas, but emotion.

It's like puzzle pieces, falling into place.
It's like tasting destiny.
It's like knowing the answer to an obscure and cryptic question.
It's like being just where you should be. When you should be. And knowing it.




Peace to you.

© LW Publishing 2010

Two Guys in a Band

I have been watching a DVD set that has the four appearances of the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show back in 1964 and 1965. As Mr. Spock would say, it's "fascinating." They did three weeks in a row in February of ‘64, on their first trip to the States, then another week in September of ‘65. When this actually took place I was in diapers, enjoying Gerber’s fine products.

The three weeks in '64 are interesting. Ed Sullivan, the host, seems very nervous. He’s worried that the crowd of teenagers might erupt into something . . . rude? Dangerous? It’s hard to tell. But he’s pretty nervous. He keeps saying “be quiet” He had to get those commercials in.

On the first show John Lennon doesn’t sing lead on anything, which seems weird. John liked to be out front. But Paul sings all the leads. I wonder if John was sick? Maybe he had a cold and couldn’t sing so Paul took the lead? John makes up for it on the next two shows, singing most of the lead vocals. And his mic is up front, on an angle with George an Paul behind. This gave an interesting angle for the camera, but it also placed John prominently in front of the rest of the band.

And then there’s the show in September of ‘65. It’s a year and a half later but a lot of things are still the same. The crowd is still going gaga. Girls looking like they’re going to pass out, screaming like in a horror movie when the guy with the axe jumps out to chop up the girl. They scream and their hands come up next to their face. What is that? Ed Sullivan is still nervous that things might get out of hand. The audience still putting up with the other acts, just waiting for the Beatles to play.

Then the Beatles come out and you can tell that year and a half has passed. The hair is a little longer. And the way they play, you get the impression they’ve seen the Rolling Stones and feel threatened by the experience. The Stones first record was released in April of ‘64. But, whatever the reason, the Beatles rock harder. John is playing the Rickenbacker 325, painted black. Then Paul does “Yesterday” all by himself, which John doesn’t seem to like much. He makes an odd comment about it. He’s trying to be funny but he’s really just acting a bit strange. Is he nervous or just giddy from the experience? Is he on something?

But then they do another song, and during this song there’s a really great moment. John Lennon has moved back to sing in the same mic as Paul McCartney. Paul is on harmony. They’re into the song, and for just a second they make eye contact. Instantly they’re both grinning, as if the two of them are in on a private joke. And the joke seems to be this: Man. Can you believe this? Can you believe what’s happening to us? How did we get here? This is nuts, don’t you think?

Two young friends, in their early twenties, playing songs in a rock band, and suddenly it’s become something huge and impossible to account for. Somehow, they’re in America playing on a tremendously popular TV show with people screaming their names. And, somehow, they are the stars of the show.

When they look at each other like that, it’s a very sweet moment. Like kids on Christmas morning, they're amazed to be there and having the time of their lives. Not icons. Not rock stars. Not a piece of history. Just two guys who liked to play music together blown away by what their passion has led them to.

I think that moment says a lot about why the whole thing worked. It reveals the heart behind the songs that are still listened to by so many people. At least until the drugs and the egos started to get in the way.


They enjoyed what they were doing.




Peace to you.

© LW Publishing 2010