One of my favorite poets, Pablo Neruda, said
these words in his poem about discovering poetry called “La Poesia” (Poetry):
“And it was
at that age…poetry arrived in search of me
I don’t
know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river
I don’t
know how or when, no, they weren’t voices, they were not words, nor silence,
But from a
street it called me, from the branches of the night, abruptly from the others,
Among
raging fires or returning alone, there it was, without a face,
And it
touched me”
It is the way I feel about music.
I have loved it for as long as I can remember and been pulled to its magic. I
can remember watching music stars on our television and wanting to be like them
but it really went back further to my earliest recollections of learning songs
in Sunday School and hearing my mother sing to me when she rocked me. When I
got my first guitar for my 8th Christmas it was like I had been
reunited with an old friend I hadn’t seen for a while. My fingers found their
way over it easily and intuitively like nothing else I’ve ever tried to do.
Music, to me, is magical in a way
that other things are not. You may have heard a song a hundred times but that
hundred and first it may speak to you and touch you in a more powerful way than
any of the first hundred. Maybe that is possible with a painting or picture but
we do not usually feel so many different things when we see a picture. The same
song may make us want to smile, dance, cry or sing at the top of our lungs-
regardless of our ability to do so very well.
As I’ve gotten older, I have
realized that I was fortunate enough to have had my musical tastes defined
during the 60s and 70s- which were arguably the most important decades in the
history of popular music’s development. And I now try to celebrate as much of
that music as I can by going to hear the legacy acts of that era who are still
performing.
Over the last several years I have
gone to see concerts by artists including Paul Simon, Robert Plant, The Who,
Eric Clapton and Steely Dan, to name a few. Some of these acts may be touring
again to pay bills, back taxes or 3 or 4 alimonies. But most of them seem to be
performing because they love doing it. And many seem to enjoy it as much or
more than ever.
Last night I saw James Taylor and
Bonnie Raitt perform. I have seen JT several times over the years but not very
recently. I last saw Bonnie Raitt in 1974- FORTY- FIVE YEARS AGO. Just saying
that seems incomprehensible. I listened to James Taylor sing “Fire and Rain”
and thought… ”If he has sung this hit
only 100 times a year since it was new, he has sung it around 5000 times”. And
yet, the audience almost drowned him out. Like me, they knew every word, melodic twist,
inflection and breath in the original version. It is burned in our
consciousness like a brand. It’s a safe bet that some of the people there
experienced that song in a more meaningful way than they ever had in their
lives.
I am grateful for the magic and
enduring beauty of songs. We hear them and they transport us to other places
and times. We ride a wayback machine to a time when we did not know what we
know now and the world was still full of possibilities. They remind us of first
girlfriends and an old house we lived in or our first prom or a small
transistor radio. Just when they are forgotten or worn out or unimportant they
leap up and are bigger and better and we have another perspective and deeper
understanding of something than we ever have because of them. Of all the powerful
experiences I’ve ever had, none can compare to music when it connects with the
fibers of your brain, heart and soul.
I remember going to see Crosby,
Stills and Nash at an amphitheater show one summer night. The weather was
perfect- warm and not a cloud in the sky. Every star seemed to be as big as the
moon. The band, it was obvious, were having fun and felt joyful making music
together. There was a moment they broke into “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” and the
sound was perfect, my view was great and even though I had worn that record out
I felt the song in as powerful a way as ever. It was an amazing moment 20 years
after I first heard the song. My memory of that moment is powerful even now, 30
years later.
Thank you, all you artists who
have lived your whole lives lonelier than us to take music to us all. Our world
is bigger and richer because of you and the expression of your art. And to you
who are reading this…go see that artist you missed the first time around. It
may be profound in a way you can’t even imagine. You may drive home from the
show saying “Music came tonight in search of me. And it touched me ”.
