I just got to see the legendary JASON WEBLEY perform in my home state of New York, and for my first time in Brooklyn. That was my first one-of-a-kind musical experience in 11 years. I think he has a song about that number. The drought wasn't intentional. He hasn't been touring as much as he used to, and when he has, I've been somewhere else (thanks to him!).
If you haven't read about Jason Webley before, here or elsewhere, I'll just let you know that he's a traveling musician who generally plays accordion, acoustic guitar, piano and a vodka bottle full of pennies. Also, he stomps a lot. More importantly, if you wanted to pick one guy to walk into a room, turn it into a party and get everyone singing along and laughing so hard their sides hurt, he's your guy.
Needless to say, the show was something else altogether, and I laughed throughout (he has a way of telling stories... there was a good one about giraffes). Even better, I had to go to some remote warehouse and ring the bell, because it was a secret location, and when the door opened it was Jason, checking his own guest list. I got to say hi, tell him it was my fifth show but first in 11 years, and then get thanked by him for attending. They had nice cushioned seats, and it was a small gathering so there was an intimate feel, which is the best way to see the show. If you get a chance, go, so you will know!
The first time I saw him was with my sister and her friends at Bard, in autumn 2005, when I was 20 years old and awaiting approval to study and live abroad for the first time. That had been basically a large classroom, although technically some place of worship. We got to sit right up front, and I've never seen a story teller bring so much energy to a room, before or since.
Although he didn't play all my favorites this Sunday, he played plenty of new ones, with great titles, and a few classics that still move me or put a lift in my step.
What really struck me was even though he's got all these songs about just dancing when the world is going crazy, or seeing that maybe all the upheaval is leading to something positive, he himself confessed to being in a strange place in his life, more specifically, in that he isn't sure he has anything novel to say to contribute to the various crises facing the world, or at least the general direction in which it's going. I think age has something to do with that. He's been touring twenty years. He must have been hoping for certain improvements. I know some of how he feels, but I think I've got some new energy, thanks to teachers like him. Even so, he still played the best song for these times.
I spent much of the day and the ride home thinking about all that had happened in the ELEVEN years since I'd seen him. I remember the last time I saw him was with three friends. What was most notable about that night was the absence of a friend, someone I had beyond strong feelings for, and whom I'd met because of Jason's music. But the feelings weren't reciprocal, and that night was a heavy feeling that even though there had always been signs I wasn't winning the girl, it was that night that I slowly, begrudgingly started to accept that a future together as a couple, at least in the near future, wasn't looking likely. I didn't give up on her heart for a while, but I knew deep down that if she wasn't even going to come out for Webley, then our connection must not have been quite as important to her as I'd thought it was (the fact we both liked his music was why she had befriended me in the first place). She was worth all the pain, and they both taught me plenty about the world, myself and where out potentials could meet. Despite the underlying sorrow, Jason lifted my spirits as always, just like the other three times I'd seen him. Those were back in college, and the first was before I had even studied abroad in New Zealand.
That's what was so special about last night. Jason Webley gave me courage to travel. I'd already applied to study in New Zealand, but after seeing him play Train Tracks at Bard College, I received my acceptance letter to study on the other side of the world ("your passport has been kissed by the holy fool"). It was the same song that made me burst into tears while cooking eggs and then sitting in front of a mosaic heart in San Francisco, that had kept me going traveling in Asia, hitching through snow in the south, riding with a canoe on top and hiking with a heavy backpack in the north, and while counting quarters for some beans while working in the Bronx and waiting for the next pay day ("if you'd just trade everything, for that small bag of dried up beans it's only time until the whistle blows...")
The last time I'd seen Webley, I hadn't even started to go on a reading tear. I'd just been introduced to the work of Tom Robbins. Interestingly, the woman who'd left a space in my heart because she'd chosen to share her heart with someone other than me was, sensibly enough, the same human being who introduced me to my favorite writer. So I read to take my mind off my heart, although I was really bringing my mind closer to my heart, even if I didn't quite see it that way back then. I also began exploring new music the following year, especially hip-hop, post-rock and jazz fusion. I hadn't even been to Chicago (first of three times), let alone lived in Tokyo or San Francisco, or hiked in the Grand Canyon, Glacier Park, the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the Golden Summit of Emei Shan, or the Himalaya. I was working only my second job after graduation, in publishing, and was about to finish there and take 3 months trying my hand at a novel, which was about the mysterious possibilities for creative magical journeys based on my meager experience as a 23 year old. I had a very limited perspective of the world, of what I'd already perceived in the world, and of my own capabilities to explore, embrace, enjoy and really perceive said world.
We were thanked by one of the greatest performers of all universe for taking the difficulty to see him on a Sunday evening, and then I walked to the train. Due to those tracks, the 60 minute ride home took 90 minutes, and I was more sleep deprived than usual this Monday morning. Thanks to the concert, however, I had plentiful energy, because something is back. Maybe Jason isn't sure what to say, but I'm finding my way, a little more each day. I hope someone revives in him the magical power that he helped me find in myself. I live creative uncertain journeys and am the man I am because of "magical helpers" such as Jason Webley. Please cheer him up and buy some of his songs!
If you haven't read about Jason Webley before, here or elsewhere, I'll just let you know that he's a traveling musician who generally plays accordion, acoustic guitar, piano and a vodka bottle full of pennies. Also, he stomps a lot. More importantly, if you wanted to pick one guy to walk into a room, turn it into a party and get everyone singing along and laughing so hard their sides hurt, he's your guy.
Needless to say, the show was something else altogether, and I laughed throughout (he has a way of telling stories... there was a good one about giraffes). Even better, I had to go to some remote warehouse and ring the bell, because it was a secret location, and when the door opened it was Jason, checking his own guest list. I got to say hi, tell him it was my fifth show but first in 11 years, and then get thanked by him for attending. They had nice cushioned seats, and it was a small gathering so there was an intimate feel, which is the best way to see the show. If you get a chance, go, so you will know!
The first time I saw him was with my sister and her friends at Bard, in autumn 2005, when I was 20 years old and awaiting approval to study and live abroad for the first time. That had been basically a large classroom, although technically some place of worship. We got to sit right up front, and I've never seen a story teller bring so much energy to a room, before or since.
Although he didn't play all my favorites this Sunday, he played plenty of new ones, with great titles, and a few classics that still move me or put a lift in my step.
What really struck me was even though he's got all these songs about just dancing when the world is going crazy, or seeing that maybe all the upheaval is leading to something positive, he himself confessed to being in a strange place in his life, more specifically, in that he isn't sure he has anything novel to say to contribute to the various crises facing the world, or at least the general direction in which it's going. I think age has something to do with that. He's been touring twenty years. He must have been hoping for certain improvements. I know some of how he feels, but I think I've got some new energy, thanks to teachers like him. Even so, he still played the best song for these times.
I spent much of the day and the ride home thinking about all that had happened in the ELEVEN years since I'd seen him. I remember the last time I saw him was with three friends. What was most notable about that night was the absence of a friend, someone I had beyond strong feelings for, and whom I'd met because of Jason's music. But the feelings weren't reciprocal, and that night was a heavy feeling that even though there had always been signs I wasn't winning the girl, it was that night that I slowly, begrudgingly started to accept that a future together as a couple, at least in the near future, wasn't looking likely. I didn't give up on her heart for a while, but I knew deep down that if she wasn't even going to come out for Webley, then our connection must not have been quite as important to her as I'd thought it was (the fact we both liked his music was why she had befriended me in the first place). She was worth all the pain, and they both taught me plenty about the world, myself and where out potentials could meet. Despite the underlying sorrow, Jason lifted my spirits as always, just like the other three times I'd seen him. Those were back in college, and the first was before I had even studied abroad in New Zealand.
That's what was so special about last night. Jason Webley gave me courage to travel. I'd already applied to study in New Zealand, but after seeing him play Train Tracks at Bard College, I received my acceptance letter to study on the other side of the world ("your passport has been kissed by the holy fool"). It was the same song that made me burst into tears while cooking eggs and then sitting in front of a mosaic heart in San Francisco, that had kept me going traveling in Asia, hitching through snow in the south, riding with a canoe on top and hiking with a heavy backpack in the north, and while counting quarters for some beans while working in the Bronx and waiting for the next pay day ("if you'd just trade everything, for that small bag of dried up beans it's only time until the whistle blows...")
The last time I'd seen Webley, I hadn't even started to go on a reading tear. I'd just been introduced to the work of Tom Robbins. Interestingly, the woman who'd left a space in my heart because she'd chosen to share her heart with someone other than me was, sensibly enough, the same human being who introduced me to my favorite writer. So I read to take my mind off my heart, although I was really bringing my mind closer to my heart, even if I didn't quite see it that way back then. I also began exploring new music the following year, especially hip-hop, post-rock and jazz fusion. I hadn't even been to Chicago (first of three times), let alone lived in Tokyo or San Francisco, or hiked in the Grand Canyon, Glacier Park, the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the Golden Summit of Emei Shan, or the Himalaya. I was working only my second job after graduation, in publishing, and was about to finish there and take 3 months trying my hand at a novel, which was about the mysterious possibilities for creative magical journeys based on my meager experience as a 23 year old. I had a very limited perspective of the world, of what I'd already perceived in the world, and of my own capabilities to explore, embrace, enjoy and really perceive said world.
We were thanked by one of the greatest performers of all universe for taking the difficulty to see him on a Sunday evening, and then I walked to the train. Due to those tracks, the 60 minute ride home took 90 minutes, and I was more sleep deprived than usual this Monday morning. Thanks to the concert, however, I had plentiful energy, because something is back. Maybe Jason isn't sure what to say, but I'm finding my way, a little more each day. I hope someone revives in him the magical power that he helped me find in myself. I live creative uncertain journeys and am the man I am because of "magical helpers" such as Jason Webley. Please cheer him up and buy some of his songs!
No comments:
Post a Comment