Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Stacey Belson anyone?

Twice in the last month I was blown away by a singer because the singer never let go of a single note. The big surprise was Bob Weir, usually a big offender in the game of fade-away notes, huff-huffing to hit his target only to let the note die as he gears up for the next one. Oh, it's not so bad, I guess. Sure beats belting. But in comparison, when Weir was sitting in with Hot Tuna at the Sweetwater in Mill Valley, his cover of When I Paint My Masterpiece elaborated an intensity that drove my heart into my throat. Why? Because he held every note, hard and vibrating, until the precise instant that the next note appeared.

A few weeks later, again in Mill Valley but this time 142 Throckmorton, something similar happened. After a lot of rollicking soul-blues from the Blues Broads, it was Tracy Nelson's turn to solo. The hall shifted into another gear, leaning forward and gasping. Why? Because she didn't let go of a single note before its time.

The jazz singers know about this. Why do we expect less from rock and rollers?

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