May 1 – Part Two
The band starts. The friends are greeted. We talk about how we have seen this first act before at a CdV event months ago. The songs are just as good. The set up is different and yet I am moving. I know I’m watched. I act like I’m watched even if I’m not. (That way, there are less surprises.)
A text from my daughter. The picture is beautiful. I share it. The phone reached connection calms me, the young one knows. I feel her “pulling for you mom” energy even if it’s all in my head.
I dance with all my friends. How many have I made in the last year because of this event? MANY. And I don’t know all of their stories. I know music tastes and the energy brought to the dance floor. I don’t have to know anything else to know good folk.
The lights are dark. Do they come up between acts? Not that I notice? The bar. Why oh why must the light be so damn blinding? So we can see that’s why. I’m handed a lighter.
It’s light years after. She shows me that it works and that I should keep it.
The band has already been on. The burlesque is on and off and on and off. It allows for breaks. More than I ever take normally. But it’s hot in there and cooler temps outside. The walk to my car with band loot. It makes me smile and is a nod to the memories of the circles and spirals of the past. Different band, vinyl to hear, tshirt to put on.
First impression: wow! Second impression: just what I thought. Third impression: better live, way better and way different.
Theater folk. I know them. This is that and not it at all. Makeup to hide away? Not just that but also to give the appearance of wide awake still. The trickery of it is perfectly done. The hiding in full sight much like a cat. I do the same and fain not watching. But the not watching, is watching without the energy. The energy is curious, not intense. I am not intense on this evening. More a watcher. There are those that are surprised because my intense happened before the performance behind “closed doors” (as if they are actually).
Was it for truth? The real truth for sure. The surface truth? That remains to be seen. The dress up like a doll was a hint. Not that it was needed. I already knew because I’m not that stupid and naive anymore. What comes with age…
The performance itself. So easy going considering the subtle queues of nervous as a team. The shift of bass to the keyboard to the vocals and guitar. The new drummer knew the score. The bass was the queue and the keyboards were gotten through. Practice if this crew goes on tour. Sure, a new drummer would be needed, belongs to another band. Semantics, how did it sound?
Like a new Cure born.
There, I said it.
The sound similar enough that it created instant like, though not love. Not yet. It wasn’t as dark as the record. It was just as raw and I liked it better. There, I said that too.
The new songs at the end? Are a HELL YES! More of that! You didn’t say it was new. I got a poke in the ribs from that friend of mine, the one that handed me off a year or so ago.
“This is what I was on about that night.” This. Would I have missed it if he didn’t point it out? No. Duh.
Raw truth wins every time. The ansgt: get it down! Surprise or shame or “I didn’t know that”? GET IT DOWN! The gold will follow.
Grammy winners tell you. They don’t even realize it until it happens. And if you can be that honest, that open, and hide in plain sight, it works. It’ll fulfill even if not be the damn grammy or other award that might be fruits of a labor that should be valued for what it is instead.
I got value last night. New insight, New songs, and a little bit of a new outlook.
“What does art mean to you?” he asked. “Art is life.”
