…I entered a song I wrote with Adam, my Project MA partner, into a contest for songwriters over the age of 50 sponsored by an organization called Talent Is Timeless. I only know about this organization because somehow (o mystery of mysteries) I started seeing their ads in my social media feeds. Now, I could have been cynical about this. I could have said, well, of course; there’s an organization out there preying on the almost abandoned musical dreams of folks in the last decades of their lives. I chose a different response–insofar as we can choose our responses; I responded with something like, hell yeah. I mean, I keep making music primarily because I am compelled to do so. Not doing music, I think, would be hazardous to my health. I make music to please myself and to please Adam and a small number of close friends and people who follow my creative output. However, there is a part of me that pushes back against the notion that at some point it’s too late, that at some age one becomes too old to succeed. I know that’s the prevailing wisdom, and so I thought to myself, again, hell yeah; it’s about time someone recognized the fact that older song writers can still do great work, that their music might indeed be timeless, might be as vital as anything a young person could write, and, that their music could interest and be loved by a broad and diverse group of people. There’s a part of me that still wants to be a rock star and has not even one bit given up the dream. Otherwise, it would be absolute folly to formally release a record. Writing, recording, and releasing original music, I think, is undeniably an act of hope. So wish us well.
On a somewhat related note, I’m thinking today about the concert René and I attended last night at the Aladdin Theater: Arooj Aftab, celebrating and touring with the release of her most recent album, “Night Reign.” It was even better than I expected it would be. She’s amazing. And her bandmates are some of the best musicians I have seen live in quite some time, virtuosos all of them. Right out of the gate, her first song gave generous space for her guitar player and upright bassist both to take extended and jaw-droppingly impressive solos. Arooj, the star of the show, is no showboat. She showcased her band all the way through the set as they punctuated her otherworldly and beautiful singing with their stunning contributions. And she did that thing that mostly only jazz singers do: when her guitarist or bass player took a solo, she would afterwards simply gesture in their direction and the audience would follow suit with enthusiastic applause. The drummer, Engin Kaan Gunaydin, didn’t solo, but man, I would have loved to hear him featured. His playing was understated, light, but full of wonderfully complex polyrhythms and interesting percussive accents. He played a standard four piece trap set, but was surround by cool percussive toys and cymbals and noisemakers and some electronics here and there. And I’m kind of in love with Arooj Aftab. She’s super captivating. Her stage antics, in terms of movement, are minimal. Outside of gesturing with her hands while she sings, she barely moves, and she wears these dark sunglasses which sort of fool one into thinking she’s going to be this kind of cold, distant persona–but her in-between song interaction with the audience absolutely belies her physical restraint and the seriousness of her music. She’s witty and funny in her stage banter, more than I ever imagined she would be. My wife brought ear plugs, as one does to a rock show, but she didn’t need them. The entire concert never reached a volume that seemed any louder than the most comfortable home stereo situation, you know, when the object is listening and not dancing or partying. Any conversation taking place in close proximity to where one might be sitting would be easily heard and highly distracting, but wonderfully, NONE of that was going on. See, people DO still know how to LISTEN at a concert. I’ve seen this a number of times now with certain acts over the last five or six years, acts that command attention despite their unusually lo-decibel live performances. It’s the kind of thing that restores one’s faith in humanity. It was a great concert.
And her opening act, the singer-songwriter Zsela, was wonderful as well. Just this singer and a guitar player who would occasionally trigger loops or programs that served as a backup band on some songs. They made the use of technology to simplify one’s performance footprint seem like a smart and effective way to go. I found it inspiring. I wish Adam and I could do gigs together, but he’s in Vermont and I’m in Oregon. Maybe I could put Adam in one of these boxes and perform our songs somewhere. That’s what I was thinking about. But Zsela was good. I’m adding her to my list of new artists to follow.
So today is all about the music, and as I write these last sentences, René is in the other room at the baby grand with a student working on the music from Interstellar. It’s all good right now. It’s getting dark and the dogs are snoring. The doctor told me to take an extra pill, a pill I already have in my arsenal. I walked the dogs. I went banking and shopping. I got some dark chocolate peanut butter cups from Trader Joe’s. I feel better already.
michael jarmer 