“I’ve been listening to Country a bit,” Grey informed me the other day. It was an odd choice, I thought, and told her so. She agreed and explained it was a recent discovery and it folded into her as the lyrics were of substance and resonated with her. Though I’m not a country fan myself and have a fairly limited familiarity, I have to agree that it is a much more human music stemming from personal experience and feelings, thereby touching you on a more personal level. And I’m sure given what Grey had gone through in the last year, it was fitting on many levels.
“What are you listening to these days?”
To my recollection my friend Vincent is the only person who ever asks me this question—especially on an ongoing basis. I maybe talk to him two, three times a year, but he makes a point to ask that question every now and then. I’ve known him since we were in third or fourth grade so when we talk there isn’t a lot of pretense. We catch up because we want to, and while we aren’t as close as we once were, we still are very mindful and caring of each other.
I suppose music was always at the core of our friendship—from Hendrix to Young; Weather Report to Tyner, our shared genre’s were always broad and we were always on the search for next aural challenge. Recently he sent me three CD’s—all were songs by the Beatles. The first were “B” sides of rarely heard songs from the mop heads and the other two CDs were Beatles’ songs performed first by a non-Beatle, and then performed by the Beatles—back to back.
When Vincent mentioned that he was going to send me these CDs, I thought, “Why bother?” But after listening to some of the songs, it was amazing to hear the diversity of the non-Beatles’ versions—they ranged from classical renditions to Robin Williams singing ‘Come Together’. My favorite? Sean Connery reciting “In My Life” in prose. While an undeniable favorite, I have a hard time listening to that song as it reminds me of our very good friend Louis that we lost shortly after he graduated from college. Connery’s unmistakable Welsh tenor made each word sink deep into me and moved me uncontrollably. Just writing about it right now brings tears to my eyes.
So in return for those crazy Beatles mix, I sent him four or five CDs I was listening at the time. I can’t remember exactly, which ones, but it included a CD by Eliana Elias and another by Houston Persons. The latter of course was a loaner from Grey, which had a delightful rendition of ‘In A Sentimental Mood’.
I called Vincent a few weeks later to thank him for the CDs. He returned his thanks, and added, “You’re listening to some really grown-up music, aren’t you? That’s good.” It was an odd comment, but for some reason I felt he was acknowledging my state of being at that moment without requiring any explanation. I suppose it’s the kind of thing only old friends can do.
Today, I’m sitting at Starbucks checking up on my emails. I’m in the Bay Area visiting my Mom and as there’s no Internet connection at her house, I’m using the T-Mobile connectivity at Starbucks. I feel guilty doing this, as I usually don’t buy anything while I’m occupying space at their store. Sure I buy an obligatory Americano, but just one—and I frequent the place at least three times when I’m visiting my Mom. Well, it’s supposed to be a social, community kind of place anyways, right?
Anyhow I’m checking my work e-mails, kind of lost in my own world and listening to whatever eclectic mix they’re playing at the coffee house. I’m sitting inside the store and the place is deserted. I’m the only customer [paying and non-paying included] except for a couple seated directly across from me through the window seated in one of the outdoor tables. I glance at them and they seem to be engaged in an intense conversation. I make a mental note of them—she in sunglasses with rather homely features, the guy in a tank top sporting a few tattoos…not the typical Starbucks crowd from around my neighborhood.
About 20 minutes later my ears catch a hold of the song playing in the store—a slow, nice, yet somehow sad sounding song. I’m listening somewhat intently trying to catch the lyrics. Is it a country song, I wonder? Yeah, I think it is. At the same time I notice the couple outside still talking rather intently. But this time I could sense that something had changed. Their facial expressions were strained and I could tell that something had upset them. I knew that at any moment the woman would start to cry. It was obvious and no sooner had I made this determination, tears streamed down her cheeks. I saw the man hold her hands, and raise it to his lips, gently kissing them., his eyes consoling her. It was obvious it wasn’t an argument, but a serious discussion. I felt badly watching them, intruding on their very private moment.
But at the same time, I had this feeling that there was a familiarity in what I was observing. Could it be that in the not too distant past I was the man sitting in that seat? As these thoughts passed, the tattoos disappeared and likewise for the homely features. They were real and what they were experiencing were real. I watched them fleetingly with the music in the background, filling in the melancholy, silent moments. And as quickly as the scene unfolded, it ended. The couple stood up to leave, the music fading into the next song.
I hurriedly went over to the flat screen which displayed the music title and jotted down the artist and song. It was indeed a country song—‘Down Low” song by Teddy Thompson. After jotting down the song title and artist name on a napkin, I reflected a little bit on what had just transpired. The entire experience seemed serendipitous with my recent evening with Grey…the conversation we had and comfort I felt with her and I hope she felt with me. Alone at Starbucks I stared out the window and let my thoughts wander—Elvis Costello now wailing in the background.
What I am listening these days? I think now more then ever I understand what Vincent is truly asking me. The music of my life is an ever-changing collection of the old and new. But just as important, it’s what I’m experiencing now through choices and happenstance. So what am I’m listening to? I’m not sure, but I’m hoping that it might be a discovery of something new, yet familiar and altogether heartwarming. I’m sure I’ll have an answer when he checks in with me next.
----------------------------------------
[Postscript]
Imagine my surprise when I Googled Teddy Thompson. He’s not a country singer but a folk/singer songwriter of like, noteworthy parents. And get this, he’s a Brit with ‘Songs from Abbey Road’ being a recent song or album. Odd coincidence but it all seems to fit perfectly, right? But how did I mistake this young man for a Country virtuoso?
Simple.
The particular song I heard was from his album of a couple of years ago—a compilation of classic Country songs. The album name? Upfront and Down Low.
No comments:
Post a Comment