Nov 2015
My caressing hands have stopped trying to tame the strings.
They move now more to harmony than to melodious things.
Brassy bands, drunk sailors and the sound of laughter.
The D string, the rough bar-stool clamp and clatter.
The sound of voices, raucous and hoarse with song.
The sound of voices, laughing as they all yell along.
It's a barstool anthem;
It's great and it's loud.
There're no classics here...
but Bach would be proud.
They move now more to harmony than to melodious things.
Brassy bands, drunk sailors and the sound of laughter.
The D string, the rough bar-stool clamp and clatter.
The sound of voices, raucous and hoarse with song.
The sound of voices, laughing as they all yell along.
It's a barstool anthem;
It's great and it's loud.
There're no classics here...
but Bach would be proud.
I've recently let go of my classical training (just a little bit) in favor of jigs.
Boston is a magical city, and it has pubs and sessions and fiddlers to rival any other city I know. Immensely enjoying my stay here, and immensely looking forward to the day I return. Tonight I raise a cold one to great performers, and an even better audience. So happy.
Boston is a magical city, and it has pubs and sessions and fiddlers to rival any other city I know. Immensely enjoying my stay here, and immensely looking forward to the day I return. Tonight I raise a cold one to great performers, and an even better audience. So happy.
