And, Keats Live

This afternoon, while having lunch with a friend, a song from the late 80s whose name I cannot recall came on the air and I mentioned that it is quite a horrible song in every respect- singing, the music itself, lyrics which were not only unintelligible but unintelligent.  Nonetheless, like many people, I have a certain fondness for certain music that I grew up with, but unlike them, I would never listen to them on purpose.  Perhaps, for a lark, but to actually sit down and enjoy them at home or in the studio seems a bit nonsensical.  The basic premise is that those times are not only over, they're long dead.

Well, last evening, I had the fortune to attend a solo concert by Loren Connors.  Over the last ten plus years, I have seen him well over fifty times, maybe more (definitely not less) and in different capacities (with other people performing, including myself on two memorable occasions), but each and every time without fail is an absolutely beautiful experience.  Why, I even wrote a letter to Wire Magazine about this very topic.   You know, in the presence of such music, there is no need for words.

Loren himself, in speaking about art, mentioned the quote by Keats: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty." and he could well have been describing his own playing, if he were not so humble. Well, I can do it for him, because there is nobody's music, and I mean nobody's, who I would rather listen to.

Loren Connors solo, March 9th, 2011.