"But on the night of Feb. 2, 1975, I turned on WMMR in Philadelphia and became mesmerized by a concert the radio station was broadcasting. The concert was by a group I’d never heard of — Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. Thus began a part of my second education." The Other Education, Brooks, NYT, November 26, 2009
This is an issue I have been aware of in my own life being one of those who luckily has "the music in me." I can’t play it, but I have found it to be the most substantial emotional area of my life.
I have always found one way or another to get up front at any concert I attend. I learned early on that there is a big difference up their with the higher volume, the better visuals, having eye contact with the artist and the more excitable people around. STAND UP! I say…
I also have come to understand that the emotional rush I experience at these venues is the same experience felt by those who crowd in to see Jimmy Swaggert, Billy Graham, or the caterwauling I hear passing by the Pentecostal Church nearby. It’s the same endorphins at work.
Though David Brooks does not spell it out, his experience with Springsteen has helped remove much of that selfish intolerant bigotry so inherent to conservative ideology, so much in fact, that this so called "Rockefeller Republican" is much reviled by the NEW Republican Party as a sellout to the Liberal New York Times where he works. To many of us our present emotional experience with music is much like our ancestors experienced with 19th century poetry. How many Right-wing poets do we remember?
"I gave that Indian maid a slap, then in Walden pond I took a crap."
I do differ with Mr. Brooks on our choices in the music we enjoy most. The Boss is cool and I listen to him and like it – though it’s "Pink Cadillac" that I like best – my emotional experience is more about how well the music – like the Tingler – grabs hold of my spine and shakes my booty. Down in the concert pit my brain goes slack and my booty takes over sending me into a almost ecstatic world of my own.
That being the case I find myself very much settled into R & B based music. The Rolling Stones, ZZ Top, ACDC and George Thoroughgood are my favorites, all of whom I still go see when they come by. Up front. And sometimes as with ACDC last week, wearing my propeller hat.
The lyrics I hum along to unlike The Boss who so well expresses that universal struggle of working class Americans, but rather the far more important issues to my booty: Sexual SATISFACTION, getting some TUSH, having a BELL send me to HELL and of course being BAD all the way down to my BONE when I DRINK ALONE.
Yes I know… But in my defense I have to say the music trumps the lyrics.