Sunday, January 6, 2008

I Ought to Know (Jack Hardy)

A review I wrote for a concert I attended last night:

Thanks so much to Brian and Ellen for hosting yet another wonderful Shack in the Back concert - what a perfect co-bill!

Rod MacDonald and Jack Hardy have known each other for decades, from the Greenwich Village Fast Folk days - Jack still lives there (hosting a songwriter's exchange every week for *30* years!)... and we are lucky to call Rod local, after his parents' health issues 13 years ago in South Florida motivated him to move here.

Both men are sincere lovers of the language, translating their passion and skill to us in each musical gem - whether the theme is political, relationships or humorous, they craft poetry from their words, inviting us, the listener, on a journey of beauty and pain and connection.

We were treated to a few new songs last evening... Rod's Soldiers and Jack's Worst President Ever (and thanks, Vic, for requesting the elevator song... :-) - we laughed, we cried, we sang... and we came away changed...

Those of us who present house and venue concerts do not take for granted the work it takes to make such an evening appear seamless - much appreciation to all (from sound to snacks to seating!).

P.S. Congratulations to Rod and Nicole on the upcoming (February 29) birth of their second daughter...

P.P.S. I've seen Jack a handful of times at various festivals, more recently at last summer's Falcon Ridge - when he played I Ought to Know (last night's encore) at the festival after-hours, I googled the lyrics when I got back to Florida and was thrilled to find a hyperlinked version... :-)

P.P.S.S. Jack last night mentioned his friend Suzanne Vega, who covered his song St. Clare - she also coordinated Vigil: N.Y. songs since 9/11, a project sparked by the death of Jack's brother Jeff in the World Trade Center attacks...

I Ought to Know by Jack Hardy

To-Do List: From Buying Milk to Finding a Soul Mate, What Our Lists Reveal About Us by Sasha Cagen

POEM: Lines For The Fortune Cookies by Frank O'Hara

I think you're wonderful and so does everyone else.

Just as Jackie Kennedy has a baby boy, so will you--even bigger.

You will meet a tall beautiful blonde stranger, and you will not say hello.

You will take a long trip and you will be very happy, though alone.

You will marry the first person who tells you your eyes are like scrambled eggs.

In the beginning there was YOU--there will always be YOU, I guess.

You will write a great play and it will run for three performances.Please phone The Village Voice immediately: they want to interview you.

Roger L. Stevens and Kermit Bloomgarden have their eyes on you.

Relax a little; one of your most celebrated nervous tics will be your undoing.

Your first volume of poetry will be published as soon as you finish it.

You may be a hit uptown, but downtown you're legendary!

Your walk has a musical quality which will bring you fame and fortune.

You will eat cake.

Who do you think you are, anyway? Jo Van Fleet?

You think your life is like Pirandello, but it's really like O'Neill.

A few dance lessons with James Waring and who knows? Maybe something will happen.

That's not a run in your stocking, it's a hand on your leg.

I realize you've lived in France, but that doesn't mean you know EVERYTHING!

You should wear white more often--it becomes you.

The next person to speak to you will have a very intriquing proposal to make.

A lot of people in this room wish they were you.

Have you been to Mike Goldberg's show? Al Leslie's? Lee Krasner's?

At times, your disinterestedness may seem insincere, to strangers.

Now that the election's over, what are you going to do with yourself?

You are a prisoner in a croissant factory and you love it.

You eat meat. Why do you eat meat?

Beyond the horizon there is a vale of gloom.

You too could be Premier of France, if only... if only...

QUOTE: "Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance." ~ Confucius

No comments:

Post a Comment