“Is this part of the interview, or is this friendship?” Gordon Persha, bassist for Los Colognes, asked me as we stood among throngs of tie-dye clad Grateful Dead fans in the center of Wrigley Field. … I had left my notebook back in North Carolina, and the battery power in my recorder was running low. And then somewhere between Scarlet Begonias and Fire on the Mountain, I felt like my answer was affirmed. The night would simply be about enjoying some of the most iconic songs performed by my new friends’ musical heroes—Bob Weir, anyone?
There are times when my friends ask me for music recommendations… bands they should check out, albums they should buy, shows they should attend. And then there are times when they don’t ask me at all, but I get so excited about a song or a concert that I hijack a dinner conversation to rank my favorite tunes ….
I couldn’t move. Stuffed hundreds deep into a tacky, plush-red nightclub in midtown Manhattan that smelled of fresh sweat and cheap vodka, I was stuck in place, a proverbial halter-topped sardine of the night, waiting for Steve Aoki’s set to start while wearing a surprising amount of bracelets and glitter, wondering if I looked anything close to cool.
In the history of music, no more skillful, soulful fingers have ever settled on a Venetian 17th century Montagnana cello or the Davidoff Stradivarius than those belonging to Yo-Yo Ma.