Monday, January 4, 2016

CONTINUED: Reunion Jam




Those who kept at their music sounded better than some of the others who like me at around age twenty drove home after a gig one night and put away my keyboard,  only occasionally picking up an instrument for another forty years.  There sure wasn’t much time for making music after our jobs and wives brought responsibilities and babies … and then teenagers and bills and all the flotsam of life that we thought we loved so much.

But the soul never quits.  And it shows in the sound we’ll never see with our eyes.  We’re so used to viewing good looking young people paired with good music  in our modern media that it’s a shock to see a guy who looks like Mr. Whipple playing some  pretty fine guitar licks instead of squeezing the Charmin.  Standing there waiting for the downbeat in his Hawaiian shirt and baggy shorts … not the stylish baggy shorts of the young … you’d expect he was about to lead a bunch of old ladies in a few stanzas of Kum Ba Yah.  Instead he breaks into an intro with a 12 bar blues style and starts wailing into the microphone as if he’s Little Richard.  And he’s good!  Damned good!

Later on the fellow who’s been sitting with his wife at the next table stands up, runs his hands back over his $200 haircut and smoothes down his executive cut sweat shirt and tailored shorts.  Then he heads for the stage.  You’d think he was someone’s business agent or a successful stockbroker.  That may be, but he’s also the lead singer in a group that has remained together … most of the time … for the past 40 years.  Tonight they will reprise a list of songs that made the  hearts of a thousand young women throb as the girls danced to the music and sang out the pounding refrains in one last shriek of post-pubescent abandon before settling down to choose husbands and make babies.  Quite a few of those women are back here tonight almost fifty years later dancing down by the stage.

Unique about the music we grew up with is it being our music and it doesn’t matter if we’re playing it or dancing to it or just sitting there tapping our feet. The music is from somewhere in our soul.  That’s where it lives.

See also:  Not So Famous  -  My Short Life As A Musician

and 
                First Gig
                http://windsweptpress.com/firstgig.pdf




David Griffin                    copyright 2010