Who told you I didn't? People are forever saying the damnedest things about me.
I don't go regularly; I go every 2-4 years. The city varies but the spiritual root always emanates from the same place.
Because you know, I think it is true that there are some who are holy who walk amongst us.
These individuals are human beings, yes, but are they are able to spread a rare kind of power in alternating forms of joy, integrity and passion.
So the choir numbers roughly in the 10-18,000s. It's that kind of choir.
Last night, my pew partners were the original two, which was the sweetest thing of all (Karen "Malkmus" Ma and Bonnie "Mullen Jr" Harrison).
Our two hour worship was fierce and loving, bedecked in bright lights and red wine.
Our beloved Stocky Irishman in Black, eloquent as per usual, used his lingual talents to devote the energy in the room to the sick of the world. A tear here.
At another juncture, he tried to bottle the energy in the room so that he could peddle it to the world's rich in such a way as to help the world's poor.
He said he had gifted the Pope with a pair of fly shades one summer. The Pope put them on and cocked his head sideways. Seemingly, the weight of the sunglasses pulled his head earthwards.
There was:
Electric Co.. And the Ocean! - The Ocean! I've never heard it live before: "picture in grey, Dorian Grey, just me, by the sea" - I think it's one of the simplest and therefore most efficient songs to lock down the anomie of adolescence. Sunday Bloody Sunday in the old school style: No more! (sing) No More! Wipe your tears away...
There was a grade A ho who jumped onto the catwalk when the Man was dancing with a girl from the audience. Bono grabbed his chosen girl's hand and began to run with her away from Ho, looking back every few seconds to check on Ho's progress. Security tried to take her down but Bono said (and it fit perfectly into the song structure) "It's alright, it's alright" and Ho then got on all fours and turned herself rumpwards. You could actually hear the audience stop singing outloud when her breasts appeared on stage. Only in Los Angeles, we said. And he said.
They closed with "40" and each man put his tool aside one by one (voice, bass, guitar) until only Larry (anointed with partial mullet, unaged, unchanged, pomade liberally applied, still loves Elvis) remained.
Then he was gone too and we went out into the night.
It sticks to you, nights like those. So good.
When I am a rich registered nurse, I am going to take one and all for an evening of singing out loud and love.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
what church is this?
take your cousin?
sincerely,
God
i sang along to joshua tree in the car last night. u2 has some great yell-it-out music. i miss singing loudly in my car, i think i'll do it more often.
yelling-it-out amongst a crowd, a mass, even, of other also yelling it out, that sounds like a new kind of plane to me.
dot not worry. for one day you will experience it too...perchance November?
Post a Comment