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On Saturday night, at the Fox Theatre in Detroit, I will have checked off the last on my list of artists I must see before they die.
Sounds kind of morose, huh? Well, one must be a realist.
As I grew into my musical tastes and found artists whose songs and personae began to breathe meaning into my own life, I decided that I had to be in the same physical space as three musicians in particular.
“Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine”
I think I was in a car, driving through Wyandotte or East Lansing (I’m not exactly sure) when I first heard those soft, deceptive piano chords that preface the most challenging, courageous, and guileless opening lyric to any album I’ve ever heard. Sung in a low, transgressive growl, Patti Smith’s defiant declaration of her existential freedom shocked me to the core. I probably listened to just that opening lyric over and over again as I was fighting personal battles with my previous beliefs and what it meant to live in a different universe of disbelief.
In retrospect, the sentiment seems like a youngish one, from a mind old enough to have broken through childhood dogma but with an energy that seems uncouth for such a monumental new consciousness–as if stated with too much charisma. It is not a declaration sung with wisdom, as much as daring self-assurance.
Nevertheless, I was hooked, and totally at the mercy of this voice and this person, Patti Smith, whose name I had heard and read but whose music I had never experienced. But when I did, it filled me completely with the kind of brazen self-confidence that surely allowed Ms. Smith to sing with such conviction.
And it helped that this existential declaration of independence is followed by a 4 minute dance party.
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“Death kept followin’, tracking us down. At least I heard your bluebird sing.”
I fooled you a few years ago by turning my review of Bob Dylan in concert into a personal account of what Dylan means to me, in about 2000 words. Haha. Here’s a little bit about the actual concert experience: Dylan came on. I couldn’t believe it was him. There was lots of drunk Grateful Dead fans around me. Half way through the show, I kept thinking “I can’t believe I’m here. This is so great. Is it almost over?”
I think Dylan is better to listen to on album these days. But still, I don’t regret a second of that show. As anyone who reads this blog regularly must know, my love affair with Dylan’s music is unending and true.
My uncle made me a tape of Dylan’s Biograph when I was about 15. I listened to “Up to Me” thousands of times.
“Up to Me” from Biograph (buy)
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“He said, ‘All men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them’”
And Saturday, I get to see Leonard Cohen. All of the reviews of his live shows on this tour have been extremely good. I think it’ll be an intimate and very special evening.
I discovered Leonard Cohen because of Ween.
I know, wtf? Right?
Well, I had Ween’s The Pod and someone told me the album art mimicked Cohen’s Best of.
So I bought it. And am I glad I did. It took less than a minute of “Suzanne”–at about “and you know that she’s half crazy”–to realize that my life will be a little different as a result of Leonard Cohen.
“Suzanne” from Best of Leonard Cohen (buy)
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About five years ago (geez, has it been that long!) I saw Patti Smith at the 9:30 Club in Washington, DC.
Three years ago, I saw Bob Dylan at a minor league baseball stadium in Maryland.
And Saturday, I will be in the same room (although a very big room, and quite far away) as Leonard Cohen.
Full report t/k.
One Comment
WEEN!!!