the poetry of live music

If you ever have the chance to see Over the Rhine live in concert, by all means, go. As always, they were amazing last night, including Kenny Hutson on electric guitar, dobro, mandolin, and pedal steel - some of my favorite instruments. He rocked. Our friend, Amy, slyly purchased a bag of Over the Rhine coffee for us, too. I cannot tell you how good it smells.

Though the following poem is about classical music (which I also love), it captures the magic of live music beautifully:

Evening Concert, Sainte-Chapelle
by John Updike

The celebrated windows flamed with light
directly pouring north across the Seine;
we rustled into place. Then violins
vaunting Vivaldi's strident strength, then Brahms,
seemed to suck with their passionate sweetness,
bit by bit, the vigor from the red,
the blazing blue, so that the listening eye
saw suddenly the thick black lines, in shapes
of shield and cross and strut and brace, that held
the holy glowing fantasy together.
The music surged; the glow became a milk,
a whisper to the eye, a glimmer ebbed
until our beating hearts, our violins
were cased in thin but solid sheets of lead.

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