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This is most enticing. Corno Dolce represents the best of online musical commentary for me, almost feeling confrontational at first, only because of my academic weakness. When someone could use so few words for a reply that not only circumscribed everything I typed, but pushed me with a small elaboration, how can I repay that? Maybe I finally broke through.
Here in North America, and especially coming back from England, it's always about slavery and cotton fields and the ensuing blues. Wanting to approach music within that cultural confine as redefined by Hollywood and New York, who preferred to own their own copywrit version, totally ignores the local reality, native Americans. Who do you think first assimilated themselves, if even through poverty, slaves upon slaves. One-third of the population in the American west was of African descent, even if movies didn't even begin to represent that. You can't blame that on just black and white t.v. Much of the blues reflects that, especially the "heartbeat" drums. You don't have to think, say, as the descendent of Rus Cossacks, that your heartbeat is the same. Everyone is different. But North American natives used percussion as trance and dance, letting this unite their heartbeats in a tribal rhythm. One outsider amidst a tribe of natives would get into that, just like birds of a feather flocking together, or whales that travel as family for generations.
I woke up, still planning my "old wave" performance and the recording of it, but I was still thinking "old age", what I began typing above even after titling it "old wave". Maybe I just had my first "middle-aged moment". That might work onstage, being not just forgetful, but rediscovering my more sexy youth through addled female approaches. I know women who say, after a man has been fondling their breasts, "That's okay, he's like that". That also worked for others in rock bands when I was in my twenties, usually a drummer.
Handing out pamphlets and brochures wouldn't be part of an old wave performance, unless the performer was selling them or collecting a profit. No freebies, saving the trees. A showcard on an easel, perhaps an extension of the performer's artistry, would be best.
What makes this enticing for experienced and professional musicians is the level of self-indulgence this represents. People are expecting you to show up with no paper music, not hauling in big rigs, mostly using what's there, especially for keyboardists. This is interesting, very interesting, another form of lesson, for listeners. They can hear what it sounds like and see what it takes to get the sounds and music out of an instrument that is in their realm, something they can try themselves. Despite all my less than blatant self-commentary here, I had more musicians ask me to play their guitar to see what it sounded like, than asked to play mine. But that's okay, being left-handed has this as a benefit, if I want.
Perhaps more than any actual performance aspect, being able to introduce yourself to your audience, what are the available venues, might be the best part. You get to say your name, saying others for thanks if you want. That might not sound like much, but it's not, uh, "Hey Magle! yeah Rock on!", and the listeners laugh, thinking "this is Harmony Central". Yeah! See you later Noo Yawk! That's not dignified enough. Now if Fred Astaire or the dancing daughter of a listener or venue employee wants to dance along, you can easily add a human element lacking on big rock stages and the content requirements, to much legals, of recording venues.
Sometimes I felt more like talking, before I felt like playing, standing up there looking the audience in the eye. It's nice when you can relax yourself, getting off without restraint, making that big first impression in a relaxed way. You should want to relax your audience, so you can hit them harder later. Why start yelling out loud just to say hello, when a little lei goes a long way?
I feel extravagant with words. This excites me, a new career opportunity, on piano. Other people made me an old wave musician. And even up north, amongst the Inuit, in a world where the light for our eyes is blinding, seeing more, seeing more colours, what is an old wave for them, in the air? They told me a caribou, walking by on migration, might be startled by a bear or hunter, emote, and be gone. The next year, caribou passing by would notice his fear in the air, and make haste. They told me sounds could be frozen, and voices from the past could be heard. When the ice you are standing on groans so loudly in agreement, it's easy to believe. And when the ice makes sounds of cracking coming at you, you better run, before a rogue American ice-breaker comes your way.
That's something you might be able to extrapolate on, Mr. Corno Dolce, what technology is feasible as old wave, and what isn't. I see being able to sing a song, preferable your own, especially singing along, as a part of it. You know how the public made it difficult for jazz and classical players who grunted and groaned, unable to control it, and having a tough time selling it. Does this mean they couldn't actually sing out loud. Instead of grunting and groaning, they should have. That's an old wave performance attitude. Nice!
An old wave player would be able to weave the actual musical requests of the audience, easier to do, nice for the player, referencing what he has of it, feeling it in his output, but not having to start at the first note and play it like the original all the way through. I might be talking about a lesser musicianship than being a constant virtuoso, but that's what jamming it out is all about, leaving the things of man behind, and letting the music in you come out.
And I'm not as professional as I thought. I went into Welland's senior centre to look around, after I turned sixty, thinking even sixty-five for retirement. No, it's 50. I missed out on ten years of free pool and pool tables, seeing even old pool hall friends from when I was an employee.
They're calling the growing mountain of garbage behind the new Walmart, where people say you can dump for free, "Mount St. Welland". Yeah, not exactly like "Slum-dog Millionaire", or the residential dumps in other countries, but Welland's getting there. Garbage dumps should be an old wave theme, not a resource.
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