Good terrace

"Good terrace" is the (literally translated) name of the performance hall Kei and I performed at tonight. It's a large space that constitutes the 10th floor of a building that rises to perhaps 12 or 13 floors and that has an easy-access steel stairwell with a mesh-like appearance that allows one to take in the surroundings while trying to catch one's breath. The view of the city and volcano is eye-boggling.  Tonight's event was put on by some kind of non-profit organization that organizes cultural activities of various sorts. The theme tonight was 異文化交流, which could be brutally translated as "cultural exchange with otherness." There was a real variety of performers, everything from a guy whose mother is Japanese and father is German lecturing about German Christmas songs to a performance on koto and shakuhachi by two accomplished, elderly musicians. There were some folk bands, some dance routines, some Americans playing Christmas tunes, a magician, and I don't know what else. But there was us, playing our songs, including MCAE, a song that was written for the show. MCAE is a bit difficult to play because of some tricky time changes, and because it is only about 10 days old as I write, but being able to play a song in front of a fairly sizable audience (80-90 people) only days after having put it together was itself a pleasure that exceeded any concern for perfection. This is the kind of band I want to be in -- one that produces new material and embraces it courageously. I don't think more than 3 or 4 people heard the demo to that song before we played it. I haven't checked the recording of our live performance yet; doubtless there are few rough spots -- lyrics garbled, rhythm hacked -- but it was satisfying to get the song out there for others to hear and to feel our way through it. I read somewhere that Dylan wrote "Who Killed Davey Moore?" about a week before it started charting in the U.S. In the 1960s, musicians could write music about current events and circulate it as part of the ongoing commentary. With the onslaught of corporate radio, Clear streaming, and payola, that sort of spontaneity in radio waves has essentially disappeared. However, spontaneity still exists wherever people make music and bring it to stage without any suits standing in between them and the public.

For the first time, we played a fingerpicking style instrumental. This is one thing that having a bass player in the band did not allow us to do. So, you lose something when you lose one of three members, but you also gain something. That's not to criticize anyone, it's just to point out the obvious paradox, which Vladimir Jankélévitch cleverly called "the eye-obstacle." By this he meant that while our eyes allow us to see, they are also the reason why we cannot see further, or better. They limit us as they enable us, necessarily. Of course, he only used the eye as a metaphor. The concept is far-ranging. Just not infinitely so.