My SO and I went to a concert last night: the Derek Trucks Band. I had never heard of them, but the SO was really excited. And I have to admit, I have never seen him enjoy a concert more. He was practically leaping out of his seat, and the whoops kept leaking out even after the music stopped.
I am the first to admit that, along with the fashion gene and the shopping gene, I am lacking the music gene. Last night was a case in point. I tried to make sense of the music, looked for layers, picked around for subtleties in the wall of sound they presented, but to me, Derek Trucks sounds like a one-layer lasagna or a casserole with too many strong flavored ingredients where every bite tastes the same. But judging by the outbursts from the crowd, I was alone in my opinion. They heard something that I did not.
Part of my problem is that I am simply musically ignorant. I don't know a chord progression from a shift in tempo, let alone anything about the roots of rhythm or the evolution of a musical genre. Last night's finale was a case in point. The central theme to the piece was the melody from "My Favorite Things". Surprised, I turned to my SO and said, "That's from 'The Sound of Music'." He does not like show tunes, so I was shocked when he responded, "Yeah!" Okaaaay. Maybe it was meant to be ironic? But each time the theme reappeared, the crowd went wild. WTF? After the concert, my SO explained that the piece was from an improvisational thing John Coltrane did live at Newport. Ohhhh. Did everyone in the audience know that? Most of them were old enough, so maybe. Or maybe they just liked what they heard.
And maybe I would go to another Derek Trucks Band concert given the chance, if only to try to hear whatever it is that I don't. I did hear the bass, though, and so did my sternum. Can one suffer from cardiac arrhythmia from too much vibration? And I liked the light show; I'd love to have a set of those swiveling lamps in my front yard at xmas time.
A local group, the Todd Harrold Band, fronted. Todd Harrold I have heard of, as he is a co-host of the Burnt Toast Show, and I knew he played locally but did not know just what. I would describe their music as drum-centric funk? The guitarist moves the way I imagine Bill Gates dances, which was amusing, and they also subscribe to the wall of sound school of music. My feet liked the beat. Would I buy a CD? Probably not, but if someone invited me to another of their concerts, I would go.
So, while I spent part of the evening wishing I was home piddling in the kitchen in my jammie pants and lobster slippers, I have to admit it was an interesting event. My SO accompanies me to folk music concerts and fiber arts festivals, and this weekend's date involves signing up for a cancer prevention study, so I think I can sacrifice the occasional night of listening to music that I don't hear.
And just so I am not the only one suffering from a brain itch: "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens/Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens/Brown paper packages tied up with string...."
1 comment:
you are the devil. I will sure to sing the ice cream truck song to you next encounter.
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