The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

They Were Collaborators #328


Quintet of The Hot Club of France

5 comments :

Vanwall said...

Could there ever come another so? Prolly not, sadly.

swac said...

Prolly not, indeed, but allow me to present the music of my pal Duane Andrews for your perusal...

Vanwall said...

Excellent! Now we need a Stéphane Grappelli, and we're set - altho no remakes of "Time Flies" required.

swac said...

I know an Acadian fiddler named Ray Legere who can do a mean Grappelli...

Reminds me of a story...guitarist friend of mine was having brunch at the Lord Nelson Hotel here in Halifax in the '70s, and he looks over to the next table and sees Stephane Grappelli sitting there. It seems the violinist had just played a concert with the symphony or some such thing the night before.
The waitress comes over, and he asks if he can have a glass of wine (it's 11 a.m. or 11:30 a.m. or so), and she tells him they can't serve wine before noon (due to our often arcane liquor laws). He points out that it's almost noon, and he has to eat now and then head for the airport. She still refuses, and as she walks a way he hisses "C@#t" just loud enough for her (and my friend at the next table) to hear.

I don't know why I find that story amusing...

Vanwall said...

Ah, the feet of clay. She deserved it, tho. ;-)