“I feel like you can learn from everything. It’s not like you can only learn from elders. You learn all the time. You watch what people do, and go “Sh*t!”
~Regina King
Art is, and always will be subjective. Tastes vary. What I think is good—great, even— has been pretty much solidified.
I hate the way creatives are pitted against one another. I love when they rise above it, control the outcome, and seem to care less what others think.
I’m also thankful for the era in which I was born. Singers SANG.
I thought I would just watch VERZUZ and be entertained as two of my favorite singers forayed into the pandemic- spawned arena. Instead, it was a whole sermon. Observations, lessons, warnings, wisdom, and wake-up calls were shouting simultaneously as the two legends traded hits. Lessons in perseverance, longevity, mutual respect, beauty, professionalism, grace, honesty, friendship, gifting, and the importance of self care flowed along with the music.
I was amazed, proud, happy, worried, impressed, grateful, cringing, smiling, cheering, and reminiscing all at the same time.
I had no expectation of hearing youthful voices that had been forever immortalized in wax, or remastered for digital platforms. I was just happy to see them. If they hadn’t sung at all; if they’d just held a public conversation it would have been okay with me.
Their legendary status, like my concept of what constitutes great singing, is etched in stone.
I watched and REMEMBERED why I was drawn to, and absorbed their music when I first heard it. I remembered why these two were favorites, inspirations, influencers—and still are. They didn’t sound like anyone else. Their voices had power. What they executed live, was just like the records. Their albums weren’t a studio engineer’s magic show or science project.
Their collective body of work eclipses much of what masquerades as music these days. Did they need the platform? No. Did they need to prove anything? No. Did they make me remember why I loved to sing? Yes.
As my 61st birthday approaches, was I suddenly grateful to still be able to eek out a song? Yes. Did I silently pray to still be able to sing at all when I’m their ages? Yes.
Do I get the soul crushing, talent eroding, gift manipulating, fickle business and busyness of music, and still want to sing anyway? Yes.
I watched an example of what happens, what could happen, and what does happen in the lives of ordinary people blessed with exceptional skill.
I pray that the love of just singing a song; the simplicity and joy of it never dies.
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