Portland Baby Boomers Know The Sound When They Hear It
Every boomer has a musical moment, a memory of a singer or song so big it overwhelms them still.
And it’s better than anything you’ve got because they heard it first.
The Who do it.
Johnny Cash makes it happen.
Let It Be? There are no toppers.
For me it’s a complicated three part process.
The music moment begins when I hear a singer and their guitar for the first time.
Sunday, yesterday, at the Springfest Health & Wellness Fair, a line-up of musicians took their place on a shaded stage.
Korkage Wine Bar and Shop set up the PA and mike for the show.
I would’ve been there no matter who showed up since my wife is involved.
Because Christian Burghardt was scheduled to play, I knew what time I’d be there after the honey-do got done.
For a little history, I met Christian when I helped coach my kid’s eighth grade football team. He was one of the guys who changed from kid to comet when he put a helmet on. If you saw him before practice, you wouldn’t know him with his hat on.
Something happened when he wore the gear. He had a different focus, a different attitude once the whistle blew. It was his moment and he wasn’t going to waste it.
Ten years later he plays an event and I’m there to witness. At least that was my plan.
How’d he do? He nailed it. But first, this is my personal music gauntlet everyone sifts through before I wave my smart phone for an encore:
- I saw Queen on their first tour. Freddy Mercury was so great I didn’t notice the suspenders and hot pants. He’s a rock god who commands the stage like no one before or since Roger Daltrey.
The other thousand of so in the audience didn’t know it then, but Queen would play the same show to millions. After Freddy died, Paul Rogers put on the hot pants and did the same show.
Freddy is my stage standard.
- Just after Purple Rain, I saw Prince in Tacoma. It was sold out. To get the tickets I helped a guy roll his yard for new turf. Hard labor for Prince.
From the other side of the Tacoma Dome I watched Prince play guitar the way it’s supposed to be played. He was so good it didn’t matter that he took several neon showers in a bath tub that lifted off the stage.
Prince is my guitar standard, which he brought the Roseland last month.
- Next is the difficult standard. It’s based on Dave Grohl singing Tiny Dancer.
Anyone who’s stood up in front of others and sang a song have had a panic moment. The hard rockin’ Foo Fighter came on late night with an Elton John sensitive song. What was he thinking? Could he make an unsure audience go along with his choice of song. Hit the link if you haven’t yet.
Dave Grohl is my performance standard.
With my boomer style stage, guitar, and performance standards in place, I saw Christian Burghardt and Sam Larson play in a medical building parking lot. Like the athlete he was, and still is, Burghardt picked up his guitar and changed from the next act to The Act.
In a stunning set, these guys commanded the stage, their guitars entwined.
The performance? In Dave Grohl fashion, they made you feel things brand new. Can we get along? Will we last? Is love what matters?
From boomer days to now-a-days, the questions don’t change. Just the answers. You’ve gotTEN along before. You’ve lasted. Love does matter.
Then you hear it like it’s all brand new, and believe it.
Who do you want that from, someone from a TV show like The Voice, or a kid from town who figures it out on his own?
Has someone you know taken the jump?