You have to love live music. Yes, the carefully recorded music played over a perfect sound system is a joy; but it will never equal the magic of hearing something played in the moment. You are there, sharing a unique experience never to be repeated.
Consider it. James Taylor has probably performed “Sweet Baby James” live a thousand times… each time a unique experience, no matter how similar it appears. And if you are lucky enough to have heard it on a July night at Jones Beach… well… then you were lucky. It is a single representation of a song regardless of the number of times that he has performed it & it will never be repeated the same as the night you heard it. So smile.
It is a true joy.
And here’s the good part: it doesn’t have to be Jones Beach, Carnegie Hall, Madison Square Garden or some other fancy shmancy venue. And it doesn’t have to be JT or the Stones, either…
No… it can be at your neighborhood place… a place like Ash Creek Saloon… And it’s not Eric on the bandstand; but My Summer Science Project… an acoustic group consisting of 2 guitars and a bongo percussionist.
They were in between sets when I took up my usual outpost. Soon they finish their beers, shake a few hands and they were on. Folks filter in, not expecting to find live entertainment (other than the patrons themselves)… they look about as the group works its way thru ‘Me and Julio Down by the School Yard”… and they smile.
Maybe they are in a familiar place. Maybe they are anticipating a well needed Stella Artois to slake a thirst. But there is a smile, and it seems to grow with the friendly strains of a song well known. But the smile is there.
The music is there… moments that can’t be replicated. And, like I say, it doesn’t have to be Springsteen or a Pink Floyd “cover band.”
Just music played live, with the chance that a chord might be missed, or a note not hit. Imperfection. There is more at risk which makes it so exciting. You see the face of the guitar player, the trace of sweat on the cheek, eyes closed, perhaps to hold the rhythm closer. In an important way, the entire process is “interactive”: the musicians responding to us… to our smiles, to the appreciative nods and the clap of the hands.
The members of the band look to one another… pleased with the sound of the harmony, or a particular riff… and they smile, too.
I scratch my head. How many times I have listened to James Taylor’s recording of “Sweet Baby James”… to the line that I love, “the snow covered the Turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston”… how many times have I enjoyed the wonderfully engineered track that is perfect each time I listen to it?
So why do I smile when I hear My Summer Science Project? Because I know that I am experiencing something unique… an intersection in time and space like no other… perhaps slightly flawed as in any other live performance; but nonetheless brimming with energy and creativity.
How can you not smile?