Honestly, I’m often disappointed by music. I listen to the radio, I scroll online, I listen to tidbits and scraps. I listen to a LOT of musicians in my role as a booker and engineer and open mic host. Couple that with a huge ego in my role as a performer, and actually I’m RARELY amazed by music anymore. I pull apart the vocals, I pull apart the playing. I know what my failings are and seek them in others to excuse them in myself. But then something comes along and floors me.
Annapolis Jazz and Roots Festival at Eastport United Methodist Church in Annapolis, MD – Sunday November 5th.
Saturday night I ran sound for David Buskin and Heather. David Buskin isn’t someone I’ve listened to before, but his songs – especially the two tunes nestled in the middle of the set about friendship – a topic rarely touched by “serious” songwriters, left me sitting in the back of the room … not in tears, but elated. Here was a collection of complicated, sometimes downright contradictory chords, and poetry, that somehow made me less afraid of getting older. Made me more at home with who I was, and made me vow to call a friend in the morning.
His banter and his clearly-rehearsed but still spontaneous-feeling storytelling spoke to me (no pun intended) and there was something FREEING about his “can’t beat it, so you may as well laugh” philosophy that was so very poignant. Too many songs just seek to make you feel sad. He sort of said “it’s okay to be sad – we’re feeling it together – this too shall pass until it doesn’t”.
Heather’s opening slot was close to perfect. She’s recovering from a cold and ear infection the likes of which I don’t remember EVER hitting her before, and she’s still skirting certain notes, but watching a room that was mostly unfamiliar with her get to see her for the first time – well, it made me wish I could see her again for the first time too. I was a lot less jaded when I met her, but she was a lot less HER. Now she’s stunning, vocally more adept than she’s ever been, cool guitar riffs, fascinating songs, sparkling, clearly-rehearsed but still spontaneous-feeling storytelling. She’s levelled up just as my judginess has.
I’m frequently caught by the strangeness of what we do. We stand there, throwing our voices into a room, vibrating metal strands and hoping the message gets across – and over and over and over people LISTEN. That’s amazing. We’re such fortunate creatures.
I got some calls, messages, complaints about David. It sounds like perhaps he’s not at the top of his game and, he’s been doing this for a very long time and has his challenges. But he was beloved. And I came away thinking I wanted to cover a song about a dog and there’s a lot to be said about that because… as above… my judginess is levelled UP.