Mark sat down and fine-tuned his instrument. We were spread out on the lawn in chairs, close to the stage, eagerly awaiting his performance. During the third song, we had a scare that resurfaced from the problems at soundcheck, as the power went out for a second or two. Fortunately, the soundguys honed in on the right mix, and Mark was able to get into a confident groove. My small prayers had been answered.
Mark set the tone with "Alesund;" with its intricate classical fingerpicking, the song immediately pulls you in with its spacious, meditative introduction. The opening track from Admiral Fell Promises is epic introspection in a manner that only Mark can deliver, reflecting on a muse that is both person and place, the Scandinavian beauty of Alesund.
Mark went even more epic and intimate with his next song, if that is even possible, playing the incomparable "Duk Koo Kim." The song is a breathtaking fourteen minutes, the number of rounds the tragic Kim lasted in his final bout. During the extended bridges, Mark's acoustic version became an exquisite display of the sublime.
Mark moved into a lovely rendition of "Moorestown," as nostalgic a remembrance of lost love as pop music can project, followed by a crystalline version of "Carry Me Ohio." In the original, the words, halfway-submerged in the music's dense soundscape, slowly reveal themselves, mimicking the fleeting, hazy nature of memory. On this night, Mark's emphasis on the penultimate plea transformed the song into private prayer: Heal her soul, and carry her my angel, Ohio.
"Third and Seneca" was followed by "Cindy," a famous American folk song that Mark managed to keep humorous and serious at the same time. It was clear everyone loved Mark's clever take on the number, even if many failed to realize the song has been around for a long time in various incarnations--long enough to even meet the approval of my a cappella teacher as we performed it in high school.
Mark's banter throughout the evening was loose and pleasant. Mark asked if everyone was doing all right. He said "we don't have backyards in San Francisco." A dog barked in the distance. Everyone laughed when he noted it was the first time that had happened during a show.
"You Are My Sun" was beautiful. I could not get the "Leona" refrain out of my head for days. Given the natural beauty of the surroundings, Mark probably felt compelled to play the new song "Church of the Pines," one of the most pastoral numbers he has ever written.
Mark again asked if everyone was doing all right. He said he was just doing what he normally did, and he hoped it was all appropriate for a family show. He paused and then joked that "we don't have families in San Francisco either."
Mark asked what other songs we wanted to hear. Rip called for "Salvador Sanchez." Mark joked that he couldn't remember the song. Rip also asked for "Glenn Tipton" for my Dad. (The old ball coach could appreciate opening lines like "Cassius Clay was hated more than Sonny Liston."). A few more possibilities were called out, at which Mark joked, "hey now don't boss me around." He was clearly feeling good. And with the next run of songs, Mark would hit a high that I have still not come down from. We later remarked that we could feel Mark wanting to make the night special, and during the next three songs he certainly accomplished that objective.
"Salvador Sanchez" gave me the chills. Mark's delivery was divine. And "Glenn Tipton" seemed to strike with great force, especially during the rising choruses. Mark then surprised everyone with "All Mixed Up," one of the best songs from his Red House Painters catalog. It was a magical three-song run only to be followed by another trifecta.
"Heron Blue" was dark and mysterious and displayed the lower range in Mark's unique register. "Rock 'N' Roll Singer," another audience request, was pure acoustic candy; AC/DC never sounded so interesting or contemplative. Mark ended his performance with "Blue Orchids," the graceful closer from April. Mark's classical guitarwork was stunning--at times it sounded as if two guitars were playing, one for rhythm, one for melody.
We gave Mark a standing ovation. During his performance, I had constantly looked up at the night sky and tried to soak in the entire experience. Thankfully, I am still enjoying it now. That is what makes his music so special: it lasts.
Enjoy "Have You Forgotten" from the Vanilla Sky soundtrack. (Check out the original version from 1996's Songs for a Blue Guitar).
No comments:
Post a Comment