Youssou N'Dour sparkled last night. His voice sounded as youthful as ever and is better live than on record (if such a thing is possible.) I was a little taken aback by the intensity of his performance. Somehow I've imagined him as someone who smiles as he sings - an impression partly created the one time I'd seen him on film, singing In Your Eyes with Peter Gabriel. At Womad he was, if anything, scowlingly straight-faced, despite the utter exuberance of the Super Etoile de Dakar (who were sensational - genuinely super.) Coming after the rather show-busy David D'Or, an Israeli singer with a fabulous voice and (another) great band, this was a bit of a relief. Generally performers at Womad seem to feel obliged to tell the audience how great they are and how much they love them. I suppose this is good PR and perhaps some who say this are being honest, but it gets extremely tiresome. A large proportion of the audience really suck, to be frank. If you're anywhere not too close to the front you get to hear the music through a not-so-thin-veil of ceaseless chatter which leads one to question why a number of these folk have chosen to shell out not a few readies only to have their conversations interrupted by inconsiderate musicians who insist on wanting to be heard - if not actually listened to.
Listening to music changes it. (Not my aphorism, I'm afraid. From Robert Fripp's Guitar Craft, if I'm not mistaken.)
Sometimes I am (and have been) guilty of using music as wallpaper, which is, I think, what the modern world encourages us to do. But this is not healthy.
Paradox: you listen better in a crowd, assuming the crowd is listening.
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