Listening to Levon Helm's Dirt Farmer this evening I was aware for the first time of just how strained his voice sounds - not surprising in a man then dealing with cancer of the throat - now, sadly, so longer with us. He sings so well, with such commitment, that the sheer difficulty of what he's doing is not immediately apparent. It's the imperfection of the voice that makes it so powerful.
There's a sort of definition of art in there somewhere.
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