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Seasons Of Glass... the Yoko Ono record that came out after John Lennon was murdered. You could call the title melodramatic... but an eloquent way to describe a life-changing passage of time, in just three words. With all of the splinters. This is more like, Seasons Of Imbalance. Uneasy steps from the long, scorching, barefooted days to the chill and withdrawal into the encroaching nights. Rumors of war. Wounded land. The world absorbed into the grafted-on cell phone. Old emotions, passions and inspirations whithering to make way for new ones. Walking into the studio, today, was more effort than a pleasure should be. Maybe I should call it a priviledge... though it requires a fairly steady influx of money, drive, punctuality and devotion. Which has come harder to ante up, as of late. It's quite like a lot of music, lately. That element of purpose, profundity, and just the GROOVE! seems to be lacking. Retreaded. Difficult to find a twist of phrase or melody that steps forward... and defines the mood, time and place. Hell, if someone asked me to name a song that gave a label to the fast few months, it'd be a stretch. That "Cast A Lonesome Shadow" tune... tormented, tempted, unsettled. And that's not what I'm supposed to be presenting for two hours. This show has a life of it's own, though. My contributions as part of its twenty-three year history amounts as custodian. It lets me control the flow and the pace... then the requests and the chores add the polish. It's a part of people's lives. The expected syncopation for a Friday afternoon. A means to contact loved ones. A way to influence moods and talents. Youthman can in to spin some vinyl in the second hour... truly, he's the most seamless beat-mixer I've ever witnessed. And so the show draws in another willing soul. Though mine wonders about the passion. This town, too, has changed. I made a comment previously, about not noticing a difference when school restarts... Wrong. There's the co-ed buzz. DC-style traffic. The pace quickening. The rising tide of pretension. The population doubled. I was born on the other side of c'ville, though I don't frequent the area. My brother and father departed there... so the circle closes too tightly to feel welcome. The weight of history makes you hungry for fresh air. After doing some shopping chores, I eventually made my way back to the house... where Miss Jane stayed behind, waiting for the builders that, again, never showed (and after my acid phone call to their office before leaving. Never underestimate the arrogance of those who want something from you). I feel bad for her having to be chained to the house for nothing... but can't seem to conjure up any other emotions. The fire unexpected, now untended. Difficult to rekindle. I've lost it. But, that flame has to erupt somewhere... and will. That's what makes life worth living, and resets the balance. |
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