Takin’ It To The Streets
My colleague (and “wifey”) Suzan Koc and I were enjoying our weekly float-in-my-pool catch-ups — talking about how musicians are dealing with venues being shut down. She said she was tired of livestreams and that the Italians had the right idea when they just went out onto their balconies and played. She said, “Shelly…you should go out on your front steps with a guitar and an Amp and just sing. Don’t even promote it. Don’t do it for likes. Give back to the people who’ve been watching you through a screen all these months. They deserve live music. Real live music.”
Laurel Canyon
Every so often I’ll fire up Sonos and tap on Four Way Street and I’m at Woodstock, especially if I just had a hit of a joint. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t actually there. Joni, who penned “Woodstock,” the quintessential masterpiece ABOUT the festival, wasn’t there either. She was a vessel. She was stardust. She was golden. She channeled a movement. Everything they were writing was a reflection of whatever was going on sociopolitically at the time. That’s what it was about.
