Three-Minute Chart Topper

The broken clock above the heads of the speakers seemed a metaphor for how slowly time was passing. I was in Tokyo for a few days, and decided to attend a publishing party of sorts. But this one had an unusual theme. Two famous writers were playing songs and talking about them. The common thread was cover songs, and these two would play the original, then a cover version that differed wildly from the first. It seemed an interesting premise, but the problem was that these guys had nothing really to say. I'd expected some background information, something along the lines of Bob Dylan's amazing "Theme Time Radio Hour" program. Instead I got dialogue like:
"Wow, that song is really great."
"Yeah."
"He has a nice voice doesn't he?"
"He sure does."
"..."

I felt like I was watching two morning DJs, but without the cowbells and mirth. Really, how much can you say about music? It's so subjective. I am afraid to write too much about it since that seems to suck all the life out. Who was it that said, "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture"? Another problem was the choice of songs. Names like Paul Anka and Tom Jones bring to mind shaggy carpets and mirrored ceilings. The songs themselves were heavy on the strings and Moog, with overblown production. Even The Beatles classic, "Yesterday" is overproduced, if you think about it. But take away the orchestra, and Shelby Flint's cover is pure swingin' jazz cool.
This event was billed as "An Evening of Adult Music." But this "adult" music was all very commercial songs, more about marketing than art, motivated (in my mind) by balding men in wide lapels and smelly cigars. Many in the crowd seemed lost in nostalgia, being mainly of that generation that still wears watches. Throughout the two hours, these watches got more than the occasional glance. Yet I still had fun and am glad I went.


A few days later in the Kyo, I attended another publishing party, this one to promote the latest issue of Kyoto Journal. But this event was light of words and heavy on community. Friendship, unlike music is very much objective. Well, except maybe to a hermit. But can a hermit be anything but subjective?



On the turntable: "Soulin' Volume 1"