So it’s happened. Day 4 and I have no idea what to write about. How sad is this? It is very sad.
Yesterday I started to write about the late John Wetton and, in particular, the brilliant music of Asia. I went back and listened to the first album and the first few songs really sent me back in time. To the summer of whatever year that was. When I snuck out of the house to see Asia at Reunion Arena. A juggler opened for them. He called it “music for your eyes.”
Asia’s performance fulfilled everything the 80s promised. Geoff Downes’ keyboard setup reached from one side of the stage to the other. Carl Palmer’s drums reached almost as wide, but featured an electronic set (the kinds whose sound is limited to “pew pew!”) that spun around mid-solo. And then there was Steve Howe and John Wetton, who had “typical gear” but were remarkable musicians.
The show was amazing, I was caught sneaking out and then grounded, life went on.
Humanity invented the time machine when we invented music. Nothing transports me quicker to another time and place than a song. The opening notes of “Heat of the Moment” took me back to that summer, driving home from the show in my maroon Buick Skylark.
The construction of this post is dreadful and probably deserves about a C- in the grade book. But it does introduce a new Category of post: The Time Machine. Every now and then, when I hear a particularly memorable song, I’ll post something about my vast past and the song that triggered the memory.
Thanks, you two, for reading. And listening.