5 posts tagged “music”
The clouds overhead promise a tin drum percussion and a bass line to match, but not just yet. Instead, the dark, backwards street at the end of downtown nowhere is quiet except for a strange wind passing from secret tunnels and unlit back alleys. There's a promise of something in those winds, something more. A man lurks in the shadows watching our every move. I'm watching him, too. The door ahead is marked only by a barrage of tattered posters of past acts layered one atop the next, a musical orgy in dirty sheets.
We enter anyway.
Hard hitters want small change and the deal's done. The table awaits, sultry in the red light echoing off raw brick walls and a concrete floor. I sit down and drink it all in. It's everything a night in a jazz club should be: smooth rhythms in the air, beautiful women at my table, Tanqueray and tonic in my hand. Time passes and I can't tell if it's real or something more. It could be 1am in 1948 Los Angeles, or 10pm in 2009 Atlanta. It's hard to tell from this place but I don't mind. They bring us jalapeno cornbread, fried plantains and shrimp & grits, martinis and beer, and my beloved gin & juice. On stage they're tuning up, getting ready but for what I'm not sure. I don't care, though. There's a perfection in the scene that's hard not to roll with.
I roll with it.
The first simple rhythm starts with reckless abandon, caution to the wind and no direction but forward. It's meaningless phrasing, a statement of fact that the bass line picks up like a conversation between old friends and before I know it, it's a shouting match, a synchronized cacophony of sound that flows over me in waves, pulsing loudly enough to change the rhythm of my heartbeat and make my body move in time. I look around and it's not just me.
The beat goes on.
More players randomly join, no introduction but the voice of their instruments. If they say the right thing - they stay, if not - they go. It's a simple equation, like a pass-phrase at a secret door: Know it or get the hell out. All are welcome if they know the code, though. A woman slips up on stage and surveys the secret society. They're in their own place and time and I wonder if she knows the right thing to say, knows the password. There's a breathless anticipation as she starts to move, eyes closed, body swaying like a slow willow in a lazy storm. Her mouth opens and suddenly the storm is her and we're the willow and there's nothing lazy about any of it. She makes it up as she goes along, matching phrase for phrase the random rhythms of the band, like a snake charmer. It's the same dance...she moves, they move. We move. ...hypnotic motions I start to feel in my head and hips. She's got them under her spell now and somehow the random jam slides seamlessly into a song the crowd all knows and cheering erupts volcanically behind me, crushing me between the music and the force of their elation. I practically weep at how fucking cool it all is.
And so it goes.
Drinks come and go along with singers and players as the crowd sways and cheers with each new groove. It's standing room only, a feeding frenzy for the senses and everywhere I look people are lost in it, food for the masses. Someone brings me Death by Chocolate and I'm ready to die because I know what heaven's like. I dive in with the same abandon the band taught me hours earlier and it's everything I expect it to be. I'm surprized when I don't die.
Suddenly it's 1:40 am.
The band's jamming randomly again, wild horses in need of a cowboy. The cowboy turns out to be a skinny white girl with killer boots. The crowd is dubious but I'm smirking; I know the type. She lets them run free for a bit, let's them sow their oats for a few minutes more and just when they seem like they'll escape she brands them with a high note she drops through 3 octaves and then wrangles them into an 18 minute version of Sade's "No Ordinary Love" that ends with another vocalist joining her from the side as they improv with the band. The crowd's waned in the witching hour but you can't tell from the final applause. She smiles as if she knew all along, walks off and downs a drink at the bar. Just another night around downtown nowhere.
Outside the clouds have started a jam session of their own. I don't mind. It's hard to beat the storm I just stepped out of.
I smile and walk into the night.
I'm not sure what the video was made for but I really like the song...it always brings up a barrage of imagery for me...something that always makes me like a song more.
Flight 180 from Bishop Allen. You can pick it up here. :-)
I'm feeling kind of restless today, that usual wanderlust that settles into me every so often and was going to take a little adventure down to the beach but apparently there's like a tropical storm or something. Who knew?
So it's a musical kind of day instead. Until I find something to buy. :D
I spent a good part of the rainy afternoon lost in the bookstore looking for a new author. It seems there are just a tremendous number to choose from, and while that's really a good thing it also makes it something of a challenge when you want something new to read.
It becomes a daunting task when you factor in someone with eclectic tastes...who might be seen reading Shakespeare in the morning and erotic vampire fiction before bed (oh yes, I've read the entire Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series and I'm not afraid to admit it.). So it's tough. I like light, fun reading, historic fiction, crime, fantasy and occasionally science fiction (the best thing L. Ron Hubbard wrote was not Dianetics. Trust me.).
I also like books with continuing themes and characters. There's something nice about picking up in a story from one book to another and feeling familiar with the characters and time. It's like having a really interesting friend who leads an extraordinary life and stops to tell you all about it occasionally, but doesn't ask to borrow money or steal your car to make a clean getaway from the feds. And what's not to like about that?
Lately, I've also found a lot of Women's Fiction appealing. I don't know who coined the term or why, so far it just appears people needed a way to distinguish between books where the protagonist might stand up for herself and show human strengths and weaknesses and (gasp!) intelligence from the ones where she'll be running around in circles with her top off while the killer sits and waits for her to get tired so he can slay her efficiently.
Not that I mind her running around naked, mind you. Not one bit. Naked is good. Naked and capable of pulling off a witty remark and then artfully escaping after driving a ten penny nail through the killer with a giant nail gun, however...
So I'm open to suggestions! Today I picked up the first of the J.D Robb (Nora Roberts) In Death books. I like the premise of futuristic crime, and after reading a couple of excerpts from a web site, I found the intereactions between the main characters likeable. So we'll see how it goes. A friend recommended I actually read the Harry Potter books and I plan to after all the films are done. I kind of want to see them all and then go back and read the books from start to finish to fill in the blanks. It should be an interesting experience I think.
So any other suggestions?
Off topic, I actually heard a Coldplay song that doesn't make me want to slit my wrists with a pocket comb.
You can pick it up here or here from iTunes. It's kind of catchy.
"I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place."
Does that make me crazy? Probably. ;-)
...You can pick it up here. :-)
"A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy?”
