By Silver Michaels
MemphisBluesSociety.com
silver.michaels@comcast.net
My Heroes Have Always Been... Blues People
I wander around Beale Street and assorted blues venues a lot... there's always so much to see and hear, always so much to write about that sometimes it's difficult to focus on a subject. Best approach? Think about things for a moment and write about something that moved you; just share it with the world, open and honest.
I had a difficult week last week. We're living, breathing humans, so that's gonna happen from time to time. We can choose anger and sorrow if we wish, but I prefer a different approach - deal with the problem and the difficulties it causes, then take the energy that could be devoted to anger and channel it into something more helpful, more refreshing. Of course, for myself, that means haunting the clubs like I always do. Why? Because I'll get a double dose of healing that way... friends and music.
Since I ventured out in search of a little comfort and salvation, perhaps I was more attuned to it than normal... not really sure. What I do know for fact was how wonderfully overwhelmed I was at the pure affection I had the honor to witness all this week. It starts, of course, with friends (not a bluesman per se, but Elton John once sang, "If your friends are there, everything's alright..."). Is there any greater joy in living than to bump into friends in a comfortable situation? Doubtful... and something I've noticed in the blues community is that the affection is not only very real and very heartfelt, but also very open. I don't see "pressures of situation" affecting anybody's attitudes in regards to their affections. Hugs and smiles and kind, caring words flow freely without thought or concern as to "is this cool?" or "am I going to be embarrassed at somebody hearing this?" It doesn't even seem to matter at the level of friendship; people I know well and feel close to on a daily basis or the multitude of familiar faces I bump into regularly at clubs and shows... some have names I remember, some don't, much to my own regret, but it seems to not matter. The smiles are genuine, the hugs and handshakes still flow, and the "Hi! How are you?" greetings are ever present and sincere.
And why is it that we all keep bumping into one another? At the core of it is the music, that indefinable magic that not only draws us together but grabs, entrances and binds us as one... and generally for a lifetime. At the core of the music, of course, is the group of musicians we've been blessed with, both our local legends and those national and international figures who so seem to enjoy stopping in MY city to play the blues for my friends and I. Without the musicians, we essentially have nothing to flock around and I sincerely doubt our lives would be as full and rich as they are.
I let myself drift some this week while out and about and pondered the reasons why our blues and music scene seems so connected and appreciative of one another. Is it the genre of music we, as blues fans, embrace with such passion? Blues is a music of comfort, giving voice to the joys and sorrows we all feel at various points of our lives, so it makes sense that being appreciators of the music would indicate that, as fans and people, we're also appreciators of and sympathetic to the intense emotions involved. That's a huge part of it, no doubt, but it doesn't stop there. It starts and lives and breathes deep within the musicians, those people who were fans first and then discovered the burn inside to contribute to the music... and then funneled it all through the time and devotion it takes to hone the skills needed to open one's heart and bleed in public. And there's the intangibles... I've been involved with local music scenes before, but I've never seen anything where the artists and fans were so deeply appreciative of one another. Again, kudos to all our musicians who plant those seeds; when I wander around and listen and watch the interactions, I don't see doubt or envy. I don't see resentment when another great musician walks into the club and maybe wants to join the band for a song or two. I see honest pleasure and joy at the scene as a whole; the musicians are glad to see one another and even more glad to play music with one another. Guests aren't an imposition, but instead another chance to share the music and learn another song, another lick, observe another master at play.
That extends to the fans as well. Looking for someone to listen to, anxious for something you haven't yet heard, wondering what special events loom on the horizon? There's not a periodical in the world as good or as devoted as our music people. When we find music, we don't hoard it for ourselves; we burst inside with the excitement of sharing it with the rest of the gang. We look to the stage and call the people we see "our guys, our musicians," and that's because all the folks playing openly accept us into their world. The music doesn't exist without amazing players, true... but without exception so far, all of "our guys" know and appreciate and regularly express that, without somebody to listen and cheer and dance and enjoy, the music means a whole lot less.
Thank you, my friends, both on and off the stage. Whether it's because we all sought it out actively or stumbled upon it by good fortune, the world we have on Beale and in clubs throughout Memphis is a fine and fair world, full of music and comfort and joy and affection. Is it any wonder, then, that I look to all these folks not only as my friends and as great musicians, but also as my heroes?
