Listening to the Preservation Hall Jazz Band album "Songs of New Orleans" feels perfect right now.
Maybe it's the the trumpets and trombones that can sound so slow and mournful, but still keep moving, don't get so downtrodden that they stop.
Or the old man singing "Georgia on my mind" with a lifetime of sorrow and longing in his voice.
Or maybe my personal sense of wonder that I was sitting in Preservation Hall and walking around New Orleans not all that long before Katrina, and the knowledge of that devastation is still surreal, since I wasn't physically there to see it.
Or maybe that's just how I'm hearing it at the moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment