Last night we played the 8×10 for the first time in a LONG time. It’s still got one of the best sound systems in town (and has obviously seen some upgrades since the last time we were there, back when it was… oh… you know… STILL one of the best sound systems in town!) and has great lights, overall a great looking, great feeling space. Somehow, with the way you’re cradled on the stage, it actually reminds me of the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge but on steroids. I don’t think anyone else would agree with me on that, but it gives me that feeling of intimacy despite a raised stage and speakers the size of my refrigerator. There’s just something about the tightness of it all, plus the clarity and output of sound that just makes you feel like you’re somehow INSIDE the instruments being played, and on stage – yeah – it’s like being in a comforting jam niche.
Listening back got me thinking…
So many many many years ago I discovered that the way I wanted to communicate was no longer through visual art, but through music. There were a lot of reasons – immediacy, ego, it was a next level sculpture being repeated night after night where I could rip and claw at strings Living in process rather than waiting for product. But a big part of it is that it’s inherently communal. Solo singer/songwriters aside, being in a BAND is all about a whole other language – but a language that even those who don’t speak it still feel. It’s like empathy for the masses, but telepathy for the immediate family.
Heather and I – Rowan and I – Sharif and I – we are very, very, very linked on stage. Not all the time. There are breaks. Heather and I are probably tightest. Rowan and I probably come closest to actually speaking the same language. Sharif is probably best at speaking to the outside world. Kristen and I are working at it, but we speak it a little differently. Joey and I have a decidedly different dialect that sometimes involves sitting down and weeding through our accents – but for Heather and I it’s… reflex and passion. Sometimes its visual, sometimes its instinctual. Sometimes we fight – and though Kristen and I are married – it’s HEATHER and I that are the “old married couple” in this way – but when the music kicks in, we are ALWAYS good at listening to one another.
One of my favourite moments on stage is when our vocals LOCK. I’m frankly not as good as I should be at this and so those moments are very specific (as opposed to the whole way through the night) – but there’s a couple that can be counted on : in the climax of Oracle I can feel it in my throat as Heather and I strike the words together – and then one of my ABSOLUTE favourites is when Kristen and Heather and I sing “I hate to be late” in Slight Departure. There’s a feeling in my throat of perfection. Of complete physical union. I feel it in my mouth, through my tongue, I forget my teeth because the feeling wends down my throat and into my lungs.
If I’d been trained for this, ironically, I don’t know if I’d understand it on the level that I do. Maybe that’s the wrong word. I’d understand it. Maybe I wouldn’t feel it the way that I do.
