Two Guys on Guitars
Nov. 11th, 2007 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumLast night we went to a show.
It was a lucky happenstance. The week before Maia had called me, on Weds., asking if I wanted to see a show that Saturday, someone named Perry or Barry something. Out of nowhere I said, "Well it's not Barry McQuire".
"Yeah, that's it."
Color me shocked. I figured he wasn't performing anymore. The man's 72. But I had drill, and the nature of last weekends training meant I wasn't going to be able to make a show at 7 p.m. At the show, it was announced this week's show was going to be unable to perform, and McGuire and Terry Talbot (most known for his time with Mason Proffit), would be filling in.
So we went. It was at a small place in N. Pasadena, "The Coffee Gallery". The last time I was there was to see a friend's band. The band is now defunt, and the friend has died. It's a small place. Max capacity, 49.
So they did a swell show, between them they've got a lot of years playing. So it was an evening of collective reminiscence. McQuire's a pretty good raconteur; a jovial walrus (looking at his balded pate one wouldn't think he was the original Broadway lead in Hair) and the people he knew are people most of those; of a certain age, recognise, but don't really know, so this was a time to add details to stories broadly known.
It was an intimate little show. Just loud enough, without being deafening, to let one join in with gusto. Which was right, because it was a sing-along. Mos of us knew the words to most of the songs, and we were encouraged to join in ("There's only two of us, and we can't do the high parts; you will have to play David Crosby for us", and it was good. There is something to male voices, in counter-tenor, which is wonderful).
Singing is good, a balm to the soul. Music is good, also a balm to the soul. Company is good (you got it, a balm to the soul). So there we were, in the dim, sharing a time, remembering times past, but being very much in the present. What was, with what is, memories being refreshed, as we rode the music, the cresting moment, very much in the present; surfing the now.
They'll be doing another fill-in show on 29 Dec. I'll be there, with my board in hand.
It was a lucky happenstance. The week before Maia had called me, on Weds., asking if I wanted to see a show that Saturday, someone named Perry or Barry something. Out of nowhere I said, "Well it's not Barry McQuire".
"Yeah, that's it."
Color me shocked. I figured he wasn't performing anymore. The man's 72. But I had drill, and the nature of last weekends training meant I wasn't going to be able to make a show at 7 p.m. At the show, it was announced this week's show was going to be unable to perform, and McGuire and Terry Talbot (most known for his time with Mason Proffit), would be filling in.
So we went. It was at a small place in N. Pasadena, "The Coffee Gallery". The last time I was there was to see a friend's band. The band is now defunt, and the friend has died. It's a small place. Max capacity, 49.
So they did a swell show, between them they've got a lot of years playing. So it was an evening of collective reminiscence. McQuire's a pretty good raconteur; a jovial walrus (looking at his balded pate one wouldn't think he was the original Broadway lead in Hair) and the people he knew are people most of those; of a certain age, recognise, but don't really know, so this was a time to add details to stories broadly known.
It was an intimate little show. Just loud enough, without being deafening, to let one join in with gusto. Which was right, because it was a sing-along. Mos of us knew the words to most of the songs, and we were encouraged to join in ("There's only two of us, and we can't do the high parts; you will have to play David Crosby for us", and it was good. There is something to male voices, in counter-tenor, which is wonderful).
Singing is good, a balm to the soul. Music is good, also a balm to the soul. Company is good (you got it, a balm to the soul). So there we were, in the dim, sharing a time, remembering times past, but being very much in the present. What was, with what is, memories being refreshed, as we rode the music, the cresting moment, very much in the present; surfing the now.
They'll be doing another fill-in show on 29 Dec. I'll be there, with my board in hand.
