Transcendent
Listening to Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings (Songs from the House of Soul)
The way I figure it, artists fall into two categories (more or less): the talented and the gifted.
Some artists have the talent, the technical skill to write a gorgeous song or paint a beautiful picture or compose a poem written in perfect form, but lack the ability (or maybe desire, or fearlessness) to take you on the ride. Their work is a framework in a sense, and you fill in the emotion and soul.
The gifted artists are the ones who, through the expression of their art, show the rest of us the path to God/Nirvana/[insert your preferred deity or spiritual apex here]. They are conduits, and usually tortured ones. Maybe they are driven to self-destruction by their dance with the divine juxtaposed against the cold realities of electricity bills, rent and the high cost of a Starbucks latte, or maybe they are trying to escape the hell they tap into (or, quite possibly, Starbucks). Maybe they are tortured from playing in the shadows of both. Giving themselves so completely to expression seems to bestow upon them the ability to take others on the trip.
I believe there is room for both. Some days I like to be taken on a trip, and some days I want to drive. Rarely, and divinely, sometimes I get both at once (PJ Harvey, take a bow).Lately I've had two experiences with live shows that have shown with clarity the difference between a musician who wants with his whole heart to take you to the heights and depths, and one who is a talented craftsman that offers up no more of himself than words and notes (albeit bitingly clever and wondrously winsome ones respectively).
Representing the talent camp: Stephin Merritt of Magnetic Fields. I love everything Stephin Merritt touches, and he's got his hands everywhere. Magnetic Fields, The 6ths, Future Bible Heroes and The Gothic Archies: all Stephin Merritt. His clever, catchy, ukulele-infused, synth-driven music is all over stage and TV. He has a penchant for the undead, New York City and corny love songs, sometimes all twisted (and I do mean twisted) into one song.
My fabulous friend H_ and I went to see Magnetic Fields at Town Hall in NYC last week. We decided it was only fitting to dress up. She wore a gorgeous '50s era dress and gold strappy heels. I wore red lipstick and a peacock feather in my hair. We were ready to be wowed. But we weren't. The music, sound and venue did not disappoint. It was the delivery and lack of heart that left us feeling a little empty after. Fortunately there was a Belgian beer bar next door for a post-show fill up.H_ and I agreed that technically and lyrically Magnetic Fields is pretty much unparalleled. But you may as well just listen to the albums at home. Don't expect to be transported (unless you really gett off on clever lyrics) by their live show. Plus, they didn't play either of our favorite songs. They did, however, play a couple songs that are now almost our favorite songs, which does count for something.
Stephin Merritt and hence Magnetic Fields entertains mentally, and has your head bobbing, and often a smile on your face, but doesn't reach the heart unless you take it there yourself.
In the opposite corner: Glen Hansard. I saw him perform at Radio City with his band The Frames and his other band The Swell Season. I'd never heard of him until a week before the show (thanks to wonderful L_, who also took me to the concert, god love her) and wasn't at all familiar with his music or the film and subsequent Grammy-win that launched him into the spotlight a couple years ago (Once).
My socks, as they say, were knocked off. The music was beautiful, the playing of musical instruments was skilled, the lyrics artful, tender and funny in nice proportion. The delivery, though... goddamn. He was a heart bleeding out on stage. Towards the end of the night he launched into a cover of Van Morrison's Astral Weeks that had the hairs on my arms standing straight up. The whole room and everyone in it levitated just a bit. I swear to you he touched God, and he grabbed onto us with the other hand. Gifted.
I found Hansard's performance of Astral Weeks on YouTube - he's in DC I think. Watch this and imagine witnessing the power of it live. And hold onto your socks.
