As I sit here weighing the Dionysian pull of rock and roll and the contemplative warmth of literature, I find myself reflecting upon the relative merits of each endeavor. The maternal-scholastic institutions of my youth implore me now to draft a list of pros and cons. I may have to capitulate.
On the one hand there is the spell of a good book, the cloak of storytelling that inspires in the young and old alike a passion for adventure. It is no coincidence that the book whose pages I may peruse is entitled, "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay," a boyhood adventure of epic proportions and adult intrigue.
On the other there lies a concert featuring three bands of varying interest to me. The opening band comes highly recommended from a close friend, whose taste in music concurs quite closely with my own. Nevertheless the recordings I have sampled fail to grab my attention or pique my interest. The second group plays a sort of distorted, self-described-as-minimalist brand of noisy rock. They could be the most dynamic. The third act involves a man and woman playing their own, customized, stringed instruments. While the aural layers that they build with pedals and a unique system of split-amplification attracts me, their live performance might leave something to be desired in the way of energy, as they prefer to sit.
It seems that this middle group might provide fertile soil from which a Dionysian festival might emerge, but the audience at the last week-night show that I attended at this venue was notable stagnant -- even at the moments when the lead musician that night spoke about her "lonely vagina," they barely mustered a chuckle. How crucial the listeners and their mode of participation are to the atmosphere of an evening.
While the book may be a more certain endeavor, the music still asks a question that I cannot avoid.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)