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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com
Saturday, September 29, 2007
e x p e r i e n c e m u s i c
The End of Summer concert last Saturday, the last day of summer, Sept. 22, in our living room.
The kid wanted to have an End of Summer concert, so we invited some neighbors and some of his classmates.
We wailed . . .
. . . to the extent that one of the kids destroyed my toy piano. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it but it’s a low priority right now.
Some of it was sheer noise, but I led some actual songs, and everybody sang along while making noise on various instruments as I beat the rhythm on the guitar. My son and I led everybody on the song he wrote that my band had covered, and another kid immediately wrote new words for it, which we all liked better, and everyone got whipped into a frenzy, shouting shouting shouting the words and the melody, louder and louder and more joyous, a tremendous crescendo, and then the song ended, and the concert was over, and everybody went home.
And it was the end of summer.
The kid wanted to have an End of Summer concert, so we invited some neighbors and some of his classmates.
We wailed . . .
. . . to the extent that one of the kids destroyed my toy piano. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it but it’s a low priority right now.
Some of it was sheer noise, but I led some actual songs, and everybody sang along while making noise on various instruments as I beat the rhythm on the guitar. My son and I led everybody on the song he wrote that my band had covered, and another kid immediately wrote new words for it, which we all liked better, and everyone got whipped into a frenzy, shouting shouting shouting the words and the melody, louder and louder and more joyous, a tremendous crescendo, and then the song ended, and the concert was over, and everybody went home.
And it was the end of summer.
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