There are certain sounds that go deep into a place inside of me that I can’t even describe, but it’s good. It’s very, very good. Hearing a bluesy saxophone often does that to me, and last night I found out that the stand up bass guitar can do that as well. The player was adept at many instruments as he went through his repertoire of songs, but something changed dramatically when he picked up his stand-up bass. He came to life as he played. I felt sorry for any woman in his life, because it was so obvious that this instrument was his true love and we, the audience was privy to this most intimate dance and love affair.
It was almost primal, certainly passionate and probably adept, but what I heard last night went beyond skill. The player and the instrument drew me in, cradled me in passion while strumming a connection with my soul.
Everything changes when skill transcends into passion. The player becomes one with the instrument and the listener’s soul becomes part of the ménage a trois; souls dancing together on the notes, oblivious to anything but the rhythm of the strings and the sensuousness of the vibration of the melody.
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