Tonight, some friends got together and talked about a lot. We talked mostly about music, though. Studio recordings. Live performances. Recordings of live performances. What do they tell you about a performer's ability, soul, connection with an audience, etc. Which is better?
I am still reading Dream Brother, and although I am a slow reader, I could have finished it by now. I am lingering because it is overwhelmingly inspiring to think that these two men who for all intents and purposes, didn't know each other, lived such inspired parallel lives. Just twenty some years apart. Oh yeah, and they were father and son.
The two of them practiced such musical defiance, that neither became the mainstream giant he could have been. I get a little fed up with musical masturbators, in live performances, especially. Apparently, both Tim and Jeff were prone to this behavior. I can't focus on one crazy cadenza/solo/jerk-off for more than 30 seconds. That's my personal problem. I know.
Jeff was also a system-bucker because he refused to let his lyrics be printed on the inside of the album cover. This struck me as I read it, because I don't remember ever looking for the words inside the cover. The album has always been one big play-through for me.
Here comes the hearsay: Jeff reportedly wanted people just to listen. I look back and realize I don't know the words to all the songs, but it is a super musical experience for me every time I listen to Grace. An experience that usually teaches me something new I missed last time around. He also had a problem laying down tracks because he was afraid of the permanence of it all. Having not only to sing the song the same way thirty times in the studio, but having to live with the final product forever. He really liked the idea of letting a moment come and go in concert. As much as I want to record the wonderful things I have experienced watching, listening, or performing, I can't take it with me. I can encapsulate one aspect of it, but never the whole picture. That's what memory is for, and the truth is in the remembering. Live in the moment and enjoy.
Maybe I'm feeling a little emotional about musical interpretation after an argument I was involved in last night. Maybe it's the wine. Mabe I should stop treating these blogs like they are some essay with an Intro, Expo and Conclusion. I'm sure I'll be onto the next cute boy singer soon. The Buckleys will pass.
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