Deep River

Nov 14, 11:20 AM

Last night I was back at Birmingham Town Hall to hear Joanna MacGregor and Andy Sheppard playing Deep River, their eclectic mix of songs reminiscent of the American South. The concert hall was only about a third full (where were you, good burghers of Birmingham? Shame on you all!), but it was a spectacular concert nevertheless, moving from spirtuals to some achingly beautiful versions of Tom Waits tunes (Georgia Lee and Picture in a Frame), and from there to Nick Cave (The Mercy Seat – OK, so he’s Australian, but how much more Southern can you get, short of being a penguin?) and Bob Dylan (Ring them Bells).

Seeing live music often reminds me of why I write. If I could bring even one tenth of that passion, that depth of human feeling, that immediacy, to words on the page, then I’d be happy.

My current work in progress takes music as one of its major themes, and it’s been fascinating to write about music. Whilst a lot of writing on the subject music talks about music in rather mystical terms, as usual I tend to shy away from mysticism in favour of something a bit more earthbound. My interest in music is much more in the materiality of sound and rhythmn, in the way that music lives in the physical body. And last night was a triumphant demonstration of this sheer, gut-wrenching physicality that music can provide. Glorious! If you get the chance, this is a concert not to be missed.

 
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