I pity people who can't find laughter or at least some bit of amusement in the little doings of the day. I believe I could find something ridiculous even in the saddest moment, if necessary. It has nothing to do with being superficial. It's a matter of joy in life. ― Sophie Scholl
I don't know who reads these things. I know I do. I know how when I drag my old tired ass out of bed on Friday mornings I take note of the clock....knowing another one is coming at 9am. I don't drink coffee so I guess this is the lift I need.
I fall into these essays like a feather bed. The only thing wrong with them is they don't go on and on....or come more often...or come with a button that says "click here for another one".
Fridays are always cool in my book, but even when I’m working I know I have the words to take in later in the day. Many times I’ve been waiting for bands to come on, usually with my own bad self…ongoing rapid-fire inner dialogue, not unlike what you describe. I don’t think I will ever be in some of those places you were/are. While I think I have a good ear for music (which is what really brought me here) I will never even be in any band and the whole family/wife/kids, welp none of that either. I can still kind of put myself out there but still live vicariously by checking in on your past/current exploits. This is another one that sailed over the left-center fence. Thanks for all the music past, and continued words in present time.
That couldn’t have been easy for you to write Serge. But it was great. And …. On the subject of soul and art, seeing & hearing Marah close a fabulous show at the Borderline in London with a manic version Love Train was as soulful as anything I’ve ever heard - and like you I've herd alot. Good on ya.
Well done, man. Again. Validation. We who chase it see wisps from the corner of our eye. A moment. Like an adrenaline hit. Then what? Exactly. It’s fleeting. We create because we have to. But also because we want it to be seen/heard/experienced. We want to share. We want to be seen/heard/acknowledged. Our soul. Our heart and guts up on that stage/page/canvas/blaring from iPhone speakers/whatever/wherever. Give it our all and come back tomorrow to try to do it better, to get it right this one time, and even then, so what? there’s still tomorrow and tomorrow and blah blah blah. And then you see/hear/experience someone playing in the same sandbox and shit! they’re good. They’re really good. Maybe between than you. Maybe not. But maybe. And we feel and know that the urge to dismiss is all about us. Our self image. Our self worth. And it burns our asses that he/she/they/them are so good. But ain’t it freeing to acknowledge his/her/their astounding gift, without putting it alongside our own. Ain’t that soul?
Thanks again for your words. We’re out here reading. Every week. We’re here.
I never heard, or heard of, Bright Eyes. I'm not a huge music junkie. But I am absolutely certain that the greatest album ever made is "Kids in Philly." Those guys could do rock-n-roll. Make the Rolling Stones look like rank amateurs.
I don't know who reads these things. I know I do. I know how when I drag my old tired ass out of bed on Friday mornings I take note of the clock....knowing another one is coming at 9am. I don't drink coffee so I guess this is the lift I need.
I fall into these essays like a feather bed. The only thing wrong with them is they don't go on and on....or come more often...or come with a button that says "click here for another one".
I can't say it enough. Thank you Serge.
I'm really happy that these things mean a little something to you, my friend. Thanks for the encouragement and kindness.
Broken keyboard beats a rose <g>.
Fridays are always cool in my book, but even when I’m working I know I have the words to take in later in the day. Many times I’ve been waiting for bands to come on, usually with my own bad self…ongoing rapid-fire inner dialogue, not unlike what you describe. I don’t think I will ever be in some of those places you were/are. While I think I have a good ear for music (which is what really brought me here) I will never even be in any band and the whole family/wife/kids, welp none of that either. I can still kind of put myself out there but still live vicariously by checking in on your past/current exploits. This is another one that sailed over the left-center fence. Thanks for all the music past, and continued words in present time.
Thanks so much, Tom. I'm really glad you're reading.
That couldn’t have been easy for you to write Serge. But it was great. And …. On the subject of soul and art, seeing & hearing Marah close a fabulous show at the Borderline in London with a manic version Love Train was as soulful as anything I’ve ever heard - and like you I've herd alot. Good on ya.
The joy we can find in someone else's joy. Thanks for info on Sophie Scholl.
Well done, man. Again. Validation. We who chase it see wisps from the corner of our eye. A moment. Like an adrenaline hit. Then what? Exactly. It’s fleeting. We create because we have to. But also because we want it to be seen/heard/experienced. We want to share. We want to be seen/heard/acknowledged. Our soul. Our heart and guts up on that stage/page/canvas/blaring from iPhone speakers/whatever/wherever. Give it our all and come back tomorrow to try to do it better, to get it right this one time, and even then, so what? there’s still tomorrow and tomorrow and blah blah blah. And then you see/hear/experience someone playing in the same sandbox and shit! they’re good. They’re really good. Maybe between than you. Maybe not. But maybe. And we feel and know that the urge to dismiss is all about us. Our self image. Our self worth. And it burns our asses that he/she/they/them are so good. But ain’t it freeing to acknowledge his/her/their astounding gift, without putting it alongside our own. Ain’t that soul?
Thanks again for your words. We’re out here reading. Every week. We’re here.
I never heard, or heard of, Bright Eyes. I'm not a huge music junkie. But I am absolutely certain that the greatest album ever made is "Kids in Philly." Those guys could do rock-n-roll. Make the Rolling Stones look like rank amateurs.
Managed to see Conor cover an Elliott song shortly after he’d died and it was one of those haunting moments that sticks forever.
Long live the music that breaks into your head when you don’t even want it to, because it belongs there.