The crowd was all of twenty-five, the energy lacking, and the opening gig—a solo guy accompanied by only his guitar—sang such regretful lyrics, casting a cloud so dark people would have smashed their bottles against the wall for a shard to slit with—had beer even been sold at this joint.
The night started out less than lackluster, and even a little weird—with eerie youth group-like twenty-somethings selling baked goods at a couple small “booths” in the lobby, baiting us with their smiles and greatly undercharging for Cokes. Nevertheless, the word “glad” would be a disservice to how I feel for paying 5 bucks to sit in that…art gallery? Church?... to hear Bowerbirds, for it didn’t really change my opinion of music, but something greater—reminded me how immense is the feeling of falling in love with a song, an album, or even better, a group of musicians.
Better still, it happened quickly—in an instant really—the way realizations of good things in life should come. If we think about it too much, analyze it, we find a way to dislike it, destroy it. Liking a song doesn’t take time. You either do or you don’t. The defining moment for me was hearing Beth Tascular, swaying and hypnotizing me with her accordion. She made that thing cool and beautiful in thirty seconds. For the first time in my life, I wanted to be someone else—her. Beth Tascular is spectacular. Bowerbirds are not the bandwagon, but I jumped so hard and fast I slipped and skinned my knees on the way on.
When asked to choose a reading for a wedding recently, I thought briefly about the lyrics to Beneath Your Tree, but changed my mind when I realized the song was laced with a bit of sorrow, and that just wouldn’t be appropriate for such a happy occasion. But, if you have the chance, listen. There is no greater romantic gesture, no flowers more beautiful, no chocolate as rich as these lyrics. Tell a girl you’d drag your legs across a desert, your lips thirsting for her, and she’ll know you want her unlike any other.
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