Tonight I was delighted when a friend reminded me to tune into HBO's 25th Anniversary Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Concert. In all of the comings and goings this holiday weekend I had forgotten about the show. I tuned in midstream but didn't think about what I missed so much as what I saw. Oh what I saw.
I love music, all kinds of music, but most of what was featured prominently in this performance was the very powerful and especially influential music I grew up on. There was a lot of old school, social conscious, envelope pushing, anti-establishment artistic beauty that I so love to listen to....even today.
Of course the artists have aged, significantly, from their most glory days. Patti Smith in black leather hot pants was a rather interesting sight truth be told. Ozzy Osborne's F-bombs seemed so uneventful and deadpan due to the over exposure to such things these days. Mick Jagger's swagger and strut was less sexual than it once was and it took me a while to realize that Lou Reed was, in fact, Lou Reed.
The themes have evolved significantly as well. John Fogarty's Fortunate Son had a very different meaning on it's first run. Instead of the Fortunate Son evading service in Vietnam, that Fortunate Son got us right into the thick of things the last eight years. Of course Everyday People would have been spot on appropriate considering, but alas Sly and the Family Stone were not in the house. It seems the rock and roll establishment doesn't really want to speak on that one too much.
For me, however, the moment that I enjoyed most was Bruce Springsteen joining Bono for a duet of sorts on I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. Now Bono makes my knees weak to begin with....always has. Let's face it, an Irish Rock and Roller singing about love, using heavy religious metaphors, makes me practically swoon. Rebellious, yet faithful. The belief in love but doubtful of it's existence...simply exquisite for the Catholic in me to behold. Add Bruce Springsteen's throaty rasp singing the lyric and I was transported someplace I haven't been in quite a while.
The entire exercise reminded me of why I like music so much, why it's always playing in my background. Songwriting is musical poetry, words crafted to express the heart of the poet and meant to make us explore our own heart as well. Words that pushed and pulled at my heart over the years. Words that made me look deep and look hard...at myself mostly. Words that reached in and pulled out feeling and emotion that would have laid silent if not for their existence. Words that remind me of my life, my past and my future. Words that after all these years I still listen to.
After all, as Bono says, I Still Haven't Found What I Am Looking For.
Indeed
I love music, all kinds of music, but most of what was featured prominently in this performance was the very powerful and especially influential music I grew up on. There was a lot of old school, social conscious, envelope pushing, anti-establishment artistic beauty that I so love to listen to....even today.
Of course the artists have aged, significantly, from their most glory days. Patti Smith in black leather hot pants was a rather interesting sight truth be told. Ozzy Osborne's F-bombs seemed so uneventful and deadpan due to the over exposure to such things these days. Mick Jagger's swagger and strut was less sexual than it once was and it took me a while to realize that Lou Reed was, in fact, Lou Reed.
The themes have evolved significantly as well. John Fogarty's Fortunate Son had a very different meaning on it's first run. Instead of the Fortunate Son evading service in Vietnam, that Fortunate Son got us right into the thick of things the last eight years. Of course Everyday People would have been spot on appropriate considering, but alas Sly and the Family Stone were not in the house. It seems the rock and roll establishment doesn't really want to speak on that one too much.
For me, however, the moment that I enjoyed most was Bruce Springsteen joining Bono for a duet of sorts on I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. Now Bono makes my knees weak to begin with....always has. Let's face it, an Irish Rock and Roller singing about love, using heavy religious metaphors, makes me practically swoon. Rebellious, yet faithful. The belief in love but doubtful of it's existence...simply exquisite for the Catholic in me to behold. Add Bruce Springsteen's throaty rasp singing the lyric and I was transported someplace I haven't been in quite a while.
The entire exercise reminded me of why I like music so much, why it's always playing in my background. Songwriting is musical poetry, words crafted to express the heart of the poet and meant to make us explore our own heart as well. Words that pushed and pulled at my heart over the years. Words that made me look deep and look hard...at myself mostly. Words that reached in and pulled out feeling and emotion that would have laid silent if not for their existence. Words that remind me of my life, my past and my future. Words that after all these years I still listen to.
After all, as Bono says, I Still Haven't Found What I Am Looking For.
Indeed
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