Color.
For those of us that can see it it’s what gives of a sense of things. Even a lack of color can create a sense of things. Personally for me I like colors. My desktop pic on my lappy is currently a picture from a place like Pariah Canyon in the middle of nowhere Utah. It’s of this rock formation that is like a wavy soupy red sand. It’s mixed with bands of yellow, orange, peach, and many other colors that I couldn’t even begin to name for you. What I do know is that it looks amazing.
As a child of an illustrator, a genius one at that, I wish I could have gotten my dad’s ability to know color. In a way, for me to compare, I would say that my ability to hear sound is akin to his ability to see color. I can hear things in notes and sound that most people can not. Often it’s considered perfect pitch or something to that end. I don’t hear it that way. But my dad can see subtle shifts in color that a vast majority of people can not. I can’t see them and when he tells me about things like the colors of my Christmas album that he did the cover art for, I just have to let him roll with it because he knows. I accept it for what it is.
To get back to the hearing thing for a moment. I believe a good way to describe it is as being able to hear color. Would that make sense? I can hear those subtle shades of color that my dad can see. He can’t hear the color in sound like I can. So his canvas is paint, brushes, and mediums; mine are instruments, notes, and rhythms. I guess it’s an equal trade.
Ever so often comes a musician that understands the value of sound as a way of creating art. The hard thing to do is balance that artistic creation in such a way that it will speak to a wide audience. Interestingly Living Colour did just that. While I wasn’t a huge fan because I was too young and hadn’t gotten into music at that point, I know they had some popularity. I’m not sure if this was one of their hits, but it is one of the songs on the album that I really dig. It feels so raw with concept of what you can call home. It’s like the big city version of John Cougar Melloncamp’s Pink Houses.
Because I was born in a big city I can relate to it. Though I don’t believe that the building we resided in was torn down. I do know that it doesn’t hold the same value to me. It’s a memory in a corner of my brain. I still talk to my best friend who lived two floors down. He was into music before me, after I had been relocated to a small town in the country. However, he’s since become a carpenter, so he builds buildings.
I had several friends growing up in the big apple that were from poorer neighborhoods. That didn’t bother me in the least. I can fully understand how you could love your home and be upset when someone calls it a slum, even if it is one. It’s not fun if that is all you know of your world. To be told that it’s less than what you make of it. I think that is clearly summed up in this song. I can’t remember what comedian has a joke about American’s and tearing down buildings, but it has something of a punchline like this: This is over 50 years old… Hmmm, we should tear it down and build a parking lot.
I did get to see Living Colour a couple of years ago when they were going to reunite and played a show in Los Angeles at the Key Club. I went because I wanted to see what they were like. I have nothing to compare it to from their hey day, but I will say that the singer Corey Glover is one very dynamic performer. However I felt there was no chemistry left between the members, at least at that show. It could be different now. Either way, if you don’t have this album, it is one of the best rock albums I’ve ever owned. You need to get it now.
(** Disclaimer: if Living Colour’s label decides to send me an open letter, I’ll have to tear the audio off the server. The post will remain as my ode to their request. **)