I hadn't listened to Amos Lee before and bought the tickets on a whim. The poster said something about him being the next Sam Cooke, so I was intrigued. Boy, do I love some Sam Cooke. Amos Lee doesn’t remind me of Sam Cooke at all. Not sure where exactly they got that from, but I went into the situation blind (well, more like deaf) and it was a perfect nights.
There was a lot of excitement because the theater was just reopened. Everyone was good natured, friendly, chatty, and really positive. Mutlu, the opening act, has a beautiful voice and a great setlist. He has an easy going stage presence and added just the right amount of laughs.
So, Amos and his band walked on stage, picked up instruments, and just start playing. I was crushing hard within 2 seconds of that curtain opening. They didn't strut around on stage, trying to get the crowd all hyped up because they didn't need it. The music spoke for itself.
In this age of "reality" television and the constant Dr Phil-like reaping of your soul, I'm always amazed when I get to just feel without someone telling me if it is right or wrong. The music was moody and expressive and when he sang, he was emotional, vulnerable, and honest. It was almost uncomfortable at first, like I was tapping into his private moments, but then it was so comforting. It's hard to explain, but I respect his ability to do that and be that way. I can't handle being in the room when someone reads my writing, so I can't imagine singing my heart out with my eyes closed out in front a room full of people. It is a gift to be able to just letting go, openly being who you are, and allowing the response to be whatever it is. It reminded me of all the things I keep meaning to but am too scared write. I wanted to close my eyes and get lost in the moment.
The response from the crowd was amazing. Everyone was in the moment and having the best time. Hearing the beauty that can come from heartbreak or knowing that there are people out there that just feel and share it without fear is a pretty cool thing.
The experience made me realize that something that is missing from my life. It's not a gorgeous man with an even more beautiful voice to sing me to sleep every night... although, that would be nice too. of it’s the freedom that comes from being emotionally honest and expressing it. I haven't been writing like I should, and now I know that I need to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and allow myself to be a little vulnerable again.
I've tried to figure out my response. What is it about a person, a book, a song, or whatever that affects so us deeply? Is it a remembrance, something we long to be, or some sort of mirror of our current or past selves? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's a combination of all of those things.
What I do understand is that these connections bring meaning and purpose to life. Maybe the stars were perfectly aligned, my meditations converged, or maybe it was just one of those right place at the right time kind of things, but it woke me up from a living sleep. I feel more aware not only of the world, but of myself again, and that in itself is a pretty powerful.
Anyway, check out Amos Lee's music if you haven't, because he's kinda wonderful.
"...Some times we forget what we got
And who we are and who we are not
I think we got a chance to make it right
Keep it loose
Keep it tight
Keep it tight..."