As if someone, not later than three months ago, I had said I'd come back to listen to a jazz concert, in the fullest sense of the word, I would probably say it was crazy. In the last three years I have completely forgotten that singletudine stay with someone means, often find themselves doing things that you would never have chosen to do.
And here I am. Esperanza Spalding concert at to ' Auditorium.
power of love. I am doubtful, confused and biased.
In addition, Lamoremio, has just been guilty of making me upset.
It's not that I have said, is that I had responded as . And I, that is a stupid girl, these things we bado.
Mmm. Promises evil. E 'crescent moon, I still have my period and am about to attend a jazz concert-the first of the last ten years now! - Holding hands with someone who, at the time, I have curly and blond, just to make him the opposite of what that it is today.
Or, at best, wrap the neck with a rope made of Spalding's bass and pull just enough for it to become cyanotic.
It 's too late to squabble: the lights dim and the show begins.
you enter, pompous and triumphant. He takes off his coat, the scarf and shoes, after lighting a lamp stem. Sits on a chair in front of a table and pours himself a glass of red, mimicking the curtain of what is his solemn and self-referential statement of intent: they are beautiful, talented and young and you might as well be no. Now swallow two mouthfuls and then you split the balls for the next two hours.
The formation is as follows: Esperanza on vocals, bass and hair. A choir, two violinists, a cellist, a pianist and a drummer.
For the next hour and three quarters runs an endless, perennial (dode) cacophonous improvisation scat , bound, suspended fourth, fifth increased, whole-tone scales and semitones.
The last quarter of an hour, their goodness (with two encores), you can feel the hint of a melody and half a dozen words that are not true doo-ba-ba-ba-dwee.
Imagine yourself standing in front of this (and already would have been enough for impacting my current thinking on music) and, instead, I found myself before this .
Excellent. The performance was by no means softened my bad mood, if not trying to stun me with the lethal effect of a soporific bore.
Even as we go down the stairs of the gallery of the Hall Petrassi, I'm ready to fight and began to shoot at zero, without even waiting to ask me what I think:
"Conceptual Art. Concept. Brainstorm. Brain.
(Oh, I finished C).
highbrow.
A break fucking rare. (La Cock C there is always a good idea).
seemed Berio .
He masturbated on stage from beginning to end, only for his pleasure.
I got a thrill one, throughout the concert.
Then, for charity, very good, all very good, technically flawless ... péééròò ...".
"..." "..."
"I am in complete agreement," said Lamoremio, "a heavy one."
looked at him to see if he tells the truth.
Says true.
Here, in these moments I remember why I love him.
And because, as my friend Pall , there is life there is Esperanza.
