Posts Tagged ‘concert

18
May
20

Watching a Tay in Paris; a Capital One Performance

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So, I see an ad for a rare televised concert with the lovely Tay Swift and try my lousy best to remind myself when it airs. [I don’t follow her religiously on cable/pay-per-view/internet TV; so I’m surely missing several previous concerts and wondering why the local TV station felt it was time to broadcast one…maybe just to work a deal with Capital One and fill otherwise dead air time? I am fairly sure this Paris Lover concert aired previously on some other platform.]

I miss the first fifteen minutes while struggling to keep up with a mad movie I should have just skipped (but there really wasn’t anything great to watch, anyway). Then a light went off in my head, while dabbling with something creative, and I ran to see if it was still on. It was…and I felt self-conscious within a matter of minutes. [And, I tell myself, “At least, it’s not a teeny-bopper concert.”] Apparently, it was only an hour long?

My first impression…

I see several cameras taking shots of young women, mostly teenage girls, in the audience. And, everyone seems to be wearing some kind of light-up wristband…which reminds me of a picture I made of/for Tay with light streaming off a bracelet. I don’t exactly see any MEN cheering for or even ogling her. Maybe the guys are afraid of being targeted by the typically oppositional feminine energy. [So, I guess this is just a young meeting of the women’s movement, and I’m the lone thin-haired guy in the audience at The View.]

Also, Tay…looks a bit rough. She’s wearing a hot mess of black fabric and glitter. [Anyone cued up to do as her songs say is probably itching to fire flaming amazon arrows at me, right now, just for saying anything remotely critical.] She looks made up yet like she got caught in the rain and had to tie her clothes in knots to keep them from falling off. [Did I miss the rain delay? Did I forget someone mentioning she performed despite the rain? I thought I had heard something, once, about her performing on a rainy day.] But, it’s okay. I kinda like her this way. Aside from the glittery bits, which are a distraction, she looks raw, natural, down-to-earth, vulnerable…well, as vulnerable as she can until you get a good look at the usual red lips and heavy eye makeup.

[I’ve been looking over and for Tay photos, recently, to expand and improve my “artistic interpretations.” And, I’ve noticed Tay going through so many changes, so many different looks and hairstyles. Even in her Paris concert photos, she exhibits a few different looks, like she colors her hair every day (or wears wigs?). Even her “rival,” Katy Perry doesn’t seem to vary her looks that often; at least, not lately; nor Lady Gaga who, a few years ago, you’d see popping up in some crazy costume nearly every week (it seemed). And, I begin to wonder if she isn’t perpetually in some sort of identity crisis, not quite sure who to be and how to protect herself from the media shit storm, even when it’s not focused on her.

I get this feeling like she’s a delicate yet bold and brave flower tossing in a hurricane, torn between following some trend and being true to herself. Or, she just has the good genes (genes that don’t cause hair to fall out when you color it, for example) and ability to change her appearance like a superheroine or shapeshifter. And, some of the outfits she ends up wearing…they’re like “disaster relief” instead of “superstar glam.” I feel slightly motivated to play fashion coordinator for her…and slightly afraid someone would bite my fingers off just for trying.]

Getting back to the concert and the music…

With all of the commercial breaks–including plenty of Capital One ads–and a few behind-the-scenes bits, I’m not seeing much performance. I think I saw her sing four songs before the show ended. And, two of those were songs I had heard on the radio. But…something wasn’t quite right.

I put the captions (CC) on to see the lyrics (just because I wanted a bit of a karaoke experience and know how folks can poorly hear the real words when they are sung in a swirling sea of music). And, the words I saw on the screen did not match what Tay was singing. At least…they didn’t match what I was hearing. And, apparently, the audience was singing some second part whispered in the background of the track, because Tay sang one line, and the captions displayed another while the cameras cut to the audience (who I couldn’t hear singing anything).

Doing my best to calm down (eh) and not be too loud (me? standing on pins and needles with my index finger precariously pressed to my lips as I watch?), I also noticed, during that particular song, Tay had assistance from dancers who looked less drag-ish than her video counterparts. [And, thank gawd, there wasn’t an appearance by a bothersome poser-painter.] I did enjoy the big-screen graphical assistance and the overall energy of the performance…though the audience getting vocal over Tay’s…dancing was excessive.

[Just in case anyone is bothered and concerned I may be purely critical, here, I want to ensure I was just happy to see Tay perform on TV…I wanted to see her…not to judge her…but hoping every song wasn’t a coded message to some past relationship she had, like numerous other albums. On that note, when she says things like “twenty-year sleep,” I’m thinking…she has been deceived by boyfriends since she was ten? And, now that’s over?]

So, after a few typical tourist-y photos of Paris and slightly odd backstage clippings, we get to the end of the concert and the part where the performer tells the audience she’s never had this much fun. [UUUUGH! Yes, a grown man just turned into a groaning teenager. I know it’s something performers do, but I thought…I thought she was more…”real”…and that such sentiments could never be genuine. Do you say such things just to be nice? I mean…surely, she gets around and has had similar experiences.]

And, finally, during the end credits, I see the words “worship,” “love” and “false god” appear on the screen. So, I turn up the volume and listen (closer)… Is that what she’s singing? Worship love even if it’s a false god? What does that mean? That bit stuck with me the rest of the night like a bad taste in the mouth. Darn coded messages! [And, I feel so clueless, which really sucks when you pride yourself on being a metaphor man.] What was she trying to say in that song?

Help me out, dear and enduring (because I write so much in this space and am probably testing your peepers) readers. Was it…

A) She is a false god, some evil being posing as a sort of “messiah” and deceiving us all in her sway?

B) She is not the goddess people claim her to be; she wants people to know she’s just a down-to-earth gal so she stays humble and isn’t transformed in some vile way by the forces steering her career?

C) She sees past relationships (loves) as deceptive hopes put on high pedestals and repeats this mantra to herself to acknowledge her mistakes…in a way that isn’t her previous I’m-going-to-lace-my-present-hatred-of-you-after-I-dated-you-in-a-song mentality?

D) She has lost her lofty view of true love and now thinks in a more non-spiritual, earthy way, like so many others I’ve met, those who’ve been stripped of their souls by routine sexual pursuits?

Now then…I got all that out of my system and feel I can get on with my day. It’s probably best I don’t dwell much more on the subject. But, I’ll be “chuffed” if I see some responses to my question. [I used that word correctly; yes?]

06
Sep
19

What’s Left to Write About? The Fate of Creativity

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It’s all been done…said the Bare Naked Ladies long before the Big Bang.  They weren’t kidding.

I feel that periodic urge to pose like that Thinker statue, right now.   Deep Thoughts…by Jack Writingbolt.

I am not a man of few words, yet, even now, I am finding it hard to put into words the panic, dread and frustration I feel at the thought of lacking originality and creativity in this world.  As a creative spirit myself, I feel like a dryad about to lose his tree/forest and evaporate into nothingness…but the world won’t let me.  I’m still here, whether it’s to watch the world decay around me and slowly turn me toward the dark side…or to make some impacting, positive change yet to rock the world (at a time when the average person who rocks the world seems to be a guy under 30 with a huge chip on his shoulder that is never quite explained before he is “dealt with”).

Just the other day, a thought came to me…and this isn’t about one particular gorgeous songstress I admire.  What would song writers write about if they didn’t write about past or current relationships of some kind?  If they didn’t write about how a boss or partner/spouse wronged them or “did them right,” what would fill a CD?  It’s as if the air is so thick with lust and disgust that we can’t think any other way.  I, myself, have heard more than enough talk of sex and material ambitions that mean little to me; I can’t tune out enough…I can’t tune into anything better and am quickly losing my ability to be a good listener/therapist.  [Though, my back massages remain legendary.]

When I think of all the CDs I’ve sampled, I realize, too, what few songs make it to radio and how many more seemed doomed to only be heard by diehard fans.  Is it intentional to disregard the majority of an artist’s work to either sell CDs (and disappoint later) or discourage creativity?

Imagine being an artist hired to fill a gallery with your work.  But, when you present your year’s work, the owner of the gallery says “no” to two thirds or three fourths of it, forcing you to take back some pieces you thought were better than the ones given the “okay.”  How would you feel, after thinking you were free to fill the space with whatever you could do?  Now, imagine how that might affect your output over time.  Would you still make as much?  Change the type of output?  Scrap your whole portfolio and never go to art college?

Now, imagine being a songwriter and putting all of your energy into releasing a new album in time for some not-so-important-but-crucial release date only to milk crap from your teats…and one “hit” song.   [By the way, non-related note, I “love” how Spell Check just checked “teets” and offered “tweets” but nothing closer to teats.]  Tell me I am wrong.  [I’m not wrong.]  You fill the CD with songs about passing fancies with B- and C- list famous names; maybe you get a thrill from flirting with emotional danger.  Maybe it fuels your creativity (because nothing else in this smog-clouded world will).

Then you go about performing these songs at concerts to promote that recent album…and let fans know you still remember every song you ever wrote, just in case one or more wants to hear that song which is personal to you but meant something else to them at a time in their life.  “Oh, sing that song you sang about person A because that was playing when I had sex with boyfriend C last winter.”

Or, tell me concert goers, do these performers NOT sing these songs about past relations years later?   Are they eventually forgotten?  I say this because I know certain groups, like the Rolling Stones and Linkin Park, would perform a wide selection of their work, from start to…well, ultimate finish, in some cases.  I would like to think a performer could just forget some of the work they put out, even if it was made for therapy or just to fill an album.  But, can they?  I mean…it’s out there, in abundance.  It really makes you think about what some say about the internet.  When you put it out there…here…it’s never going away.

So, then I think…

Do these songwriters enjoy reliving every good and bad moment they had in life through their songs?  Or, are they chugging back bottles of acid relief to keep themselves from puking misery every time an unpleasant time replays with the song in their minds?

And then I think…

Imagine getting into a relationship with a musician and having to relive all those past relationships in song and public functions because your “date” is a walking billboard, YouTube channel or “Alexa” for a long list of steamy and heart-break-turned-bitter-revenge creations, like ugly, mean-spirited kids they are forced to tote around in the process of a painful divorce.  It’s like the thought of pairing up with a single parent or “separated” individual.  I’m sorry if I sound cold when I say the oxygen suddenly leaves my body, and I want to pound a table for more air just to breathe, again.  I’m just not that guy who wants to dish about past relations (unless it’s the topic on the table for an inevitable date discussion) or step in as the dad to someone’s kids.  I like to think I am stronger…

And, breathe.  No mas.  ‘Kay?  [‘Sorry if I don’t “hyper-link” that to a previous post of mine so you can read over a string of past thoughts that somehow connect through my blog.  You’ll just have to read backward and be amazed when something connects…or try key word searches.]

Food for thought.  And, on that note (which is quickly becoming my regular phrase and should go on a T-shirt), I have a post about food and how it plays with our minds, coming soon, if I don’t second guess it.




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