Dylan found a wonderful performer yesterday. I am entranced. With no energy to go out yesterday, I hunkered while he ventured to see an old friend's band. En route, he found this. Violin, and technology, and gorgeously rhythmic. Katya Mufara.
I've always had a soft spot for violins and fiddles and cellos.
Enjoyed the hell out of dancing at the reception. Dylan seems to think I was the best dancer there, he's allowed. I had to make sure I hadn't embarrassed him, and he was aghast at the idea. No, apparently.
Thinking about the music chosen, about half of which I liked, a smaller portion I loved, the rest mostly Michael Jackson (whose voice I've disliked since early childhood). But this is the thing with music, it's always very personal. Taste only goes so far. And what is meaningful is largely a matter of context.
I've stayed up with current music mostly because I have to play music at work that keeps a wide range of tastes and ages more or less not unhappy. I do the shuffle on pandora, adjusting to surgeon preferences and abhorrences. Always willing to skip a song hated by anyone in the room. Which also means I can exclude songs I detest. And I hate a lot of trite and too oft repeated music that catches in my brain, replaying at 2AM endlessly. Gods I get bad earworms. My loathing for journey* and j. taylor and cold play, and others, is deep and dark and eternal.
So, I contemplated the song list for Dylan and me, were we to have that kind of reception today. And now I want it for our anniversary†. Not just stuff that we like, but the songs that tell our story, and most of which we can dance to.
Dylan doesn't dance. He's apologetic, because I totally do. But, well, it's ok. A minor compromise in exchange for an immense joy and decency to the basement. I am happy to dance around him. And he will try, oh, he does try. That's more than enough for me. He will sway with me, and hold me gently, in public, to music. And I can dance at work.
The song list will appear here, I'm sure. Eventually. It'll be a lot of TMBG.
*South Detroit does not exist. That's Windsor, Ontario. Fuck Journey.
†Whichever one is next. It'll be our 29th overall. Celebrated privately.
7 comments:
Music is life!
I understand not dancing...but watching others dance, in a way, joining in by sharing the joy of it.. that's what I do.
A lot of TMBG sounds like a beautiful thing.
I try to keep my ears open to new music. I am confused by what slides by without making any impact and what sticks. I know that repetition explains a lot of what we like, our brains can anticipate with pleasure what comes next. Funny that it has a dark side and can produce loathing as well.
gz,
I'm not one to harass non-dancers on to the floor... where I am.
Nimble,
Loathing is most of what I feel for the overplayed music of my teens and early adulthood, when I had the radio on all the time. TMBG just has such an enormous repertoire.
I apologize. I had to Google TMBG to see what it or they was or are. But I'm a huge (new) fan of Katya. You're right. Music is an individual thing.
Cat,
I'm on record here so often as a They Might Be Giants fan, I didn't think to explain. We've seen them in concert many times, and can sing along to so many of their songs. They have an enormous repertoire.
Wow! She is, without a doubt, "gorgeously rhythmic" ... Thank you for recommending Katya Mufara.
I've been rediscovering Loreena McKennitt "Live at the Alhambra" ...
Rou,
Always happy to recommend a local artist.
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