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

Artists in Action #636

James Taylor, 1969, at home, singing out a song which is soft but it's clear
as if maybe someone could hear.


DaveJ said...

The good old AR Turntable. I knew the guy was cool.

Robert Fiore said...

Made Ali-Frazier I possible by giving up his tour date at Madison Square Garden in return for a ticket -- and not a particularly good one, either.

In Sonata for Jukebox Geoffrey O'Brien writes about how he was a childhood friend and unsuccessful suitor of the girl who is the subject of "Fire and Rain," losing out to, among others, James Taylor. Of course, he's totally devastated when the she commits suicide. One day he's in a bar and he hears "Fire and Rain" on a jukebox for the first time, and he realizes what it's about, and he realizes he's going to be hearing this song for the rest of his life, and every time the heartache is going to come right back to the surface . . .