I spent yesterday watching the Philadelphia Folk Festival. This is who I saw.
- TÉADA
- Rare Spirits
- Alisa Amador
- Aoife O’Donovan
- Rhiannon Giddens & Francesco Turrisi
- Shane Hennessey
- The Henry Girls
- Quote the Raven
- Terri Hendrix & Lloyd Maines
- Scott Wolfson & Other Heroes
- TAARKA
I’ll probably go back and watch others today and the rest of the week. I also went back in the archives to see Moxy Fruvous from 1999. Fruvous was my favorite band then and I was an integral part of the Fruhead community. I saw them at Falcon Ridge that year. This was a test of the adage, “You can’t go home again.” I didn’t finish watching it. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but I got a text from Katherine and after watching streaming music all day I found the idea of talking to a friend more enticing. I couldn’t go home again, it didn’t have the magic of watching at the time, which says as more about the streaming medium and how I have changed than the quality of the band.
One benefit of a streaming festival was that I was able to talk to Rare Spirits and Shane Hennessey during their sets. These are not close friends, I wasn’t sure that Shane would know who I am, but we are FB friends and I felt the need to tell him that I don’t understand how his brain doesn’t explode when he plays one melody with his thumb and a different one with his fingers. At least when playing piano it’s separate hands controlled by different hemispheres of your brain. A lot of it is practice but much of it is talent. Not all people’s brains work the same way. I can solve a Rubik’s cube while hardly paying attention to what I’m doing, that probably seems as impossible as what Shane does to me. The difference is that what Shane does gives pleasure to others. My curse is having a huge appreciation of musical talent but no talent. Some musicians can improvise on the fly, add small touches and flourishes that make the music pop. I can hear them doing it. I know what they are doing but can’t even do it badly. I’m on the outside looking in with my nose pressed against the window. It’s a curse, but also a blessing, as I can see the magic being made and feel its effect.
I took one other break to talk to Erika. I’ve been meaning to do that for weeks. We got involved talking about the Flatbush Malls and she said, “this is such a Gordon-Erika conversation. She was right and I loved it. We get lost in corners of obscure erudition. She’s not the only friend that I have certain types of conversations that I don’t have with other people. I love the bonds that we have with each other. There are certain things that will immediately think of a specific person. I can’t hear “bagel” and not think of Mya, and visa versa. Every day River lists three things that they like each day and asks others to do the same. There are a group of us that always participate Joe posted something and I made one of my typical word play jokes. That led to Emily sending me this message. “Thank you for a laugh today. Joe didn’t list 3 things and instead of pointing that out you wrote a perfect Gordon. I hope you were channeling your inner Muppet.” I replied, “I am an outward Muppet. Muppet through and through.” These are the things that remind me that I’m not from another planet, that “my people” is not the empty set. There have been many times I have thought that I need to be reminded that it’s not true.
Wise Madness 