I don't care what they say...

There's an old song that was recorded by Peter & Gordon back in the '70s I think. It's called A World Without Love. The chorus goes something like this: "I don't care what they say I won't live in a world without love."

Of course I agree with those sentiments but I'd like to add that I wouldn't want to live in a world without music. As some of my favorites age I am looking for young musicians to listen to. I need to be prepared to replace my favorites with new ones.

In the past 6 months I have been to many concerts including: Willie Nelson, Eric Clapton, Roger Daltry, Leon Russell and B.B. King.

Russell has been a favorite of mine since I heard his first album A Song For You. He is 68 and has had brain surgery recently but is still performing and putting on a good show.

Nelson is 76. He's recording some great music and sings like a bird with his unmistakeable voice.

Daltry (not to be confused with Daughtry, an up and coming rock star who was voted off American Idol) is the only member of the Who left performing. Peter Townsend, the brilliant songwriter who brought us our first rock opera, Tommy, is stone deaf and expected to have implant surgery. If it is successful, Daltry said, they will be back on the road touring together within the year.

King is 84 and I would venture a guess that his recording career may be over. He has left us a great deal of music and will never be gone in my heart and ears. He is still touring but probably not for much longer. He has a GREAT band who should keep going when the time comes. His keyboard player, Ernest Vantrease a.k.a. The Deacon, played with Ray Charles until 2004 when Ray died (passed, as they say now). Ernie is still young and will find another gig when the time comes. He is my friend and I go to see B.B. every time he comes to town just to see Ernest and hear him play. (The picture above is from 5/4/2010 with my friend Ernie and my hubby.)

And then there's Clapton. I've been listening to Clapton since his first album with Cream, Disraeli Gears, was brought across the pond. I have watched his life take twists and turns. Nobody thought he would survive his addiction and then the loss of his son. His music has evolved in rhythm with his life and strangely enough, with mine.

I listen to him a little bit every day--or almost every day--at least in my head. I could not tell you which of his albums is my favorite. Every year I wait anxiously for a new one to be released and I fall in love with him--er, I mean his music--all over again.

Eventually, everybody has to die. I know the current politically correct word is "pass" not die but either way he won't be recording anymore. I fear that day.

Let me simply say that I hope he outlives me because I don't care what they say, I don't want to live in a world without Clapton! Okay, okay. I'm not going to do anything stupid but I think I've made my point. Have to go now, Eric's on TV singing Hoochie Coochie Man.

In line with my last post, I think I'll designate May 8 as Clapton Day. And maybe, May 9. And maybe, well, let's just say that every day is Clapton Day in my little world.

The sound of music

I've made concert-going a priority in my life for awhile; more and more lately. Without having to leave Orlando I have seen Roger Daltry, Eric Clapton and Leon Russell in the past six weeks. I'm looking forward to the first week in May when B.B. King returns to his club here. How can someone in his 80s still sing and play guitar so well? How inspiring. It's time to check the local venues to see who will be coming through after B.B.

Now that spring is here I get to watch baseball and go to outdoor concerts again. This is my favorite part of the year. The only thing that gets in the way is the pollen count. We have a contest going on to see who can sneeze the most times in a row. My husband leads so far with seven.

Ah, but I digress. Back to the music. I had forgotten why I put my business into debt by purchasing a Bose double wave radio. It's been too long since I picked out a handful of CDs and pressed the play button on the remote. My goal is to make enough money writing this year to get my business in the black. I'm right on track.

Excuse me, please, I have to get up and dance right now.

Cirque du Soleil, La Nouba - the music

Imagine going to a Cirque du Soleil show with earplugs blocking your the sound. You would only be experiencing half of the show. Here is a highlight of how the music brings the show to life. It's hard to believe that only six musicians and two vocalists can create the incredible soundtrack. If you're coming to Orlando, make La Nouba a priority on your list of 'don't miss' entertainment.

Clowns entertain as people take their seats. The lights go down. Spotlights illuminate the aisle dividing the lower section from the upper seating and a parade of characters steps out from the right. Brightly attired acrobats form a parade followed by a trumpeter as a tease of the upcoming show.

Stage lights come up suddenly and performers start moving. All eyes are focused on the brilliance and activity. The music is perfectly synchronized to enhance every motion. The two components are inseparable yet the musicians are virtually invisible. Elaborately costumed vocalists seem like part of the backdrop to the fantasy world of La Nouba. Dancing melodies create the auditory adventure appropriate to the swelling excitement on stage.

Overlooking the stage Glazer prompts the musicians through headsets and earpieces to ensure that the music compensates providing seamless accompaniment ending each act with a simultaneous stroke of the drum and beginning the next scene perfectly as he whispers “Un, deux, trios, quatre” to the musicians on platforms five stories high in towers on each side of the stage. Former opera singer Ralph Daniel Rawe and the soulful, European-sounding vocalist Sisaundra Lewis-Reid wear tiny earpieces to hear Glazer’s cues allowing their voices to blend with the instruments to create the live soundtrack.

Six musicians juggle instruments in the towers giving the impression of a large troupe of artists hiding behind the scenes. The horn section consists of Glazer on trumpet and Alain Bradette alternating between soprano, tenor and alto saxophones. Dany Lamoureaux switches between electric and acoustic guitars and adds a mandolin to the mix. The violin is bowed passionately by Benoit Lajeunesse. Eric Bergeron moves quickly between his bass, upright bass and cello. Throw in two organs, played by Glazer and Bradette and you hear the hint of an accordion. Drummer Georges “Joe” Bertrand keeps the rhythm. Instrumental solos provide emphasis during different acts. Imagine the shifting of instruments in virtual darkness.

“Music is a team activity; like a sport,” Glazer said. “If the team doesn’t work well together and one athlete isn’t willing to pass the ball to make the play, it is not a winning combination.”

Leroy Cooper's home - a place without race

The many hours interviewing and conversing with Leroy Cooper have built the foundation for Leroy 'Hog' Cooper, A Memoir. This was just the first step -- the easy one. Listening to Leroy talk was a pleasure. If I hadn't started with the intention of writing his memoir, as he had requested, I hope I would have taken the time to spend just as many hours in his 'prayer room' listening to his stories about musical history in parallel with racial history in America.

Not suprisingly, at 80 years old, he had experienced changes in both, intertwined throughout his life. I learned that there are black people in this country who lived in middle class neighborhoods back in 1928 and enjoyed positive experiences through childhood. Surprisingly (to me, at least) Leroy was encouraged to go to college and received a full music scholarship to The Pride of the South, Huston-Tillotson College (now University).

It's not that he was not affected by racial differences, it's just that he had access to the same benefits as white kids his age; they simply were separated. Growing up in the YMCA provided all the activities a child could want. Athletic teams, band, indoor swimming and motivational speakers.

Music is what caused the change in his perspective. Going to play alongside of the musicians at the University of Texas, who were white, and being invited to their homes gave him a peek into life outside of an all-black community. Not surprisingly, music continued to be the element that exposed him to differences and similarities around the country.

Leroy Cooper was never underprivileged. As his life progressed he experienced peaceful integration in some places and racist threats in others. He never used the word bitterness in relation to his own life and when he spoke about Ray Charles, he only used it in regard to Ray's blindness. It was generally known that Ray was bitter about not being sighted.

Cooper's life is a tribute to American musical history and a monument to a country that has overcome differences. Leroy felt blessed to witness the campaign of a black American running for President.

I was surprised when he asked me how I felt about Obama. We discussed campaign promises of both candidates that we liked and disliked. I asked him if he were more inclined to vote for Obama because he was black. Leroy was stunned! Although he felt pride that a black man was in the race, it never occurred to him to vote based on that single premise. Leroy Cooper was an educated man. He would vote for the person he thought was best qualified to deal with the issues at hand.

Leroy Cooper never focused on the differences between people. Instead he focused on the person.

Little Leroy 'Hog' Cooper - Making music with magazines, hangers and body language

Leroy Cooper started his music career at a very young age. Or at least he had already begun fantasizing about it. Here's an excerpt from Leroy 'Hog' Cooper, A Memoir by Leroy Cooper & Susan Cross with Foreword by David Ritz.

When I was a little boy, 7 or 8 years old, I was a one man band. I had a rolled up magazine and wooden boxes for drums and coat hangers. I’d blow through the magazines and beat on the boxes. I’d be having a ball, just beating on the boxes and blowing through the magazine. I had a picket fence and I could take the coat hanger and scrape it along the fence to add another sound. The old lady neighbors were saying, “He ain’t right. He ain’t gonna make it!” I’d be just having fun.

My mother would come up with some kid to play with me and say, “Surprise, I brought Johnny, Jr. to play with you.” I would get mad because Johnny, Jr. would interfere with my fun.

Awhile later I started blowing the horn. I would get up on top of the barn, the garage was a barn, I’d get up there with my horn and the cat staying across the alley would get up on top of his barn, and he had a saxophone and we’d be blowing at each other. Then my daddy would come home from work and he’d be standing there laughing. Back then we used to practice body moves because we couldn’t play any music. So we figured we had to get some body language. We practiced that stuff.