A couple of months ago I'd never heard of Ryan Adams, much less listened to his music. W*P*D, who worships the man as muse and idol, asked if I'd like to join her in seeing him live and I, always encouraging the new and interesting, very happily agreed.
In the meantime, I listened to a few of his songs, made friends with a couple of them and, on one memorable occasion, burst into spontaneous tears at W*P*D's house on hearing "If I Am A Stranger".
So, all in all, I was expecting to enjoy the gig, the company and especially watching W*P*D's face light up in child-like joy. I was not expecting to fall in love.
Without exaggeration, it was the most incredible live performance I have ever seen. Note perfect, completely in tune, his pure voice poured out while The Cardinals produced sounds I had no idea were possible outside of a recording studio. In short, they were sublime. Song after beautiful song without ever a dip in quality - or genius, if I'm honest. And, as W*P*D pointed out, the whole room was completely still, just letting the music wash over them, and everywhere you looked there were people singing their hearts out. The man is honestly loved.
Now, W*P*D has always said that Ryan is her muse, which I understood on an objective level (she will be returning the favour on Saturday by joining me to see my own muse, Eddie Izzard) but not really an emotional one. I accepted it was a very good choice, because his music is wonderful, but I had no personal experience of the impact it can have.
"Do you get it now?" she asked me as we left, eyes sparkling.
Oh yes, I get it.
3 comments:
Bless you! Or rather, ah SNAP!
I am still wallowing in all that was beautiful and inspiring and I am so glad you love him and 'get it'. I don't feel my obsession is unhealthy now. I am glad that I could share this with you, he stole your heart as only he can do.
Humbling really.
I am so glad you're being weaned off The Rasmus.
Eddie Izzard is your muse?
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