...listening to their ipod a little too loudly on the bus. You know, so that music spills out of the ear buds like whining mosquitoes, with a tiny thumping baseline? That was me. Sorry, I couldn't help myself.
from top: Bus lines, Tuesday night / Financial District, early evening; self-portrait at bus stop with John Mayer's arm (Gap ad)
Free concert in Golden Gate Park this past Sunday.
I'd like it if they had all opera performances in the park.
J and I saw Crowded House play in Oakland last weekend.
I really like this band, and have for a long time. I'd never seen them play in-person before, and I was *relieved* that their show was -- not the nostalgic live-action scrapbook that I feared -- but a messy organic conglomeration. They played the old stuff, they played the new stuff, and, as Dr Seuss says, my heart grew three sizes that day.
For a few fleeting moments that evening, a familiar creative sparkle hung in the air, complemented by the buzzing exhiliration of seeing live music. The show wasn't perfect, and I didn't know or like all of the songs. (And note to self, while quite lovely, the Paramount isn't ideal for this kind of concert. Prohibitive for dancing.) But since that night I've had this lingering feeling of hopefulness, almost optimism. And a particular sense of excitement that I hadn't really realized has faded out of my life over the past few years.
What does this mean exactly? That I should cut my caffeine/sugar intake? See more shows? Hard to say. I'm feeling inspired, though. It'll be interesting to see what happens next.
(Please note that I've edited out multiple paragraphs of content here. What exactly I like about CH. Long, run-on sentences about their music and lyrics, packed with adjectives. About their place in my existential ipod. Much earnestness deleted to spare you, my readers...)