| There is no Answer, when there is no Question |
[Jul. 14th, 2008|02:03 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  rejuvenated | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Kansas: All the World | ] |
As a teenager, I was broody, and obsessed with death. I was never into the whole skulls, demons, and heavy metal thing, which to my mind completely missed the point - Death is not to be mastered. My obsession tended toward a love of old things and people, time spent in graveyards and other quiet forlorn places, and brooding over the transience of the life, the relative permanence of things and ideas, and the insignificance of the individual in the great stream of humanity*.
Thus it was that the first time I heard Genesis - the early Genesis, the Genesis of 'The Musical Box' and 'The Fountain of Salmacis', I resonated like a struck tuning fork. I came for the ideas, I stayed for the music. The progressive bands of the period, the ones that dealt in the flights of fantasy that I found appealing, were mostly English. Even the ones that weren't, like Yes, had that English sound, grounded in classicism and musicianship, and so different from the regular run of American rock. I had found rock music that didn't grate and annoy, and if its forms and ideas perhaps left most of my peers puzzled and uneasy, that was a small thing.
When Kansas came along, they seemed to shake the world to its foundations. They could and did play the driving, aggressive style of rock that was in commercial favour in the 70s, yet they also had complex, interesting ideas to mull. Someone once described them as straddling the boundary between Lynyrd Skynyrd and Genesis, which isn't that far off. They also, somehow, seemed to incorporate the spirit of the land and common people into their music, much as Genesis and Jethro Tull always seemed to do for England. Kansas became a great favourite. It's not too much a stretch to say that they affirmed for me the value of American art, and that Americans could produce worthy works within their own canon, and not only in imitation of the English**. Works like 'Icarus' and 'Sweet Child of Innocence' can hold their own on any terms.
I've never really been a 'follower' of any band, except the Beatles. I don't know the musicians' lives, I don't follow news about bands. When Kansas broke up in the mid 80s, I didn't really mourn their passing. They'd gone way downhill from the days of 'Song for America' and 'Masque', turning largely into an FM radio band, and it was probably about time. So it was that when Arcturax announced that they were booked to play in his town's community festival, I was amazed, excited, and a bit worried. Was this the original Kansas gotten back together? Yes it was. Would they be as good as when I last saw them in 1978? Probably not, but I'd settle for passable.
Well, damn. That was Kansas I saw Saturday night. They were musically impeccable, and filled with energy. They put on a solid 1970s style rock show, which is to say that they just came out in regular clothes, and played their music, and goofed around a bit. It was a show about music rather than stagecraft. There was no sign that 30 years had passed. They played some of their newer stuff, and a couple of their big radio hits, but they also worked in 'Icarus' and 'He Knew'. In the next field over, behind the treeline, someone was sending up a constant stream of small fireworks. Peope were bedecked with glowsticks and LED toys. An approaching lightning storm cut the show short, but it's one of the more satisfying ones I've been to. I am *so* glad that I went. Thanks again, Arcturax, for inviting me to this. I'd never have heard of it otherwise.
* Friend Otter knows, and Friend Dog (with his appealingly Doglike habit of running such things to earth) will probably reason out what interesting behaviours this eventually led to.
** I was a child of the 60s to begin with, and understood implicitly that London was the world arbiter of culture. |
|
|
contemplative
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
