So I get star struck. I've shared a word with Andre 3000 back when he was Dre from Outkast, Big Boi too. I've run into Tracy Chapman, Maxwell and DJ Premier and each and every time I see someone whose music means something to me I get geeked.
I was relatively unselfconscious about it until I moved to New York. I believe it was the summer after my first year of graduate school at NYU and I went to see Bilal perform at the Jazz Standard.
I had long pledged allegiance to D'Angelo and still do but then it seemed like B was the heir. In fact, at first I thought it was D singing on "Soul Sista" when my friend Marcia played it off the Love & Basketball Soundtrack in her Spelman dorm room one evening.
So sitting through an intimate performance at Jazz Standard where he was joined by N'Dea Davenport was a treat. At show's end, he was loitering a few feet from me so I decided to get him to sign my program. I walked up to him, greeted him and made my requestst to which he screwfaced "why?"
I didn't have an answer. I wanted something to take home but can't imagine I articulated it all that well. I wasn't blogging then. I didn't have a camera. The program would have been my souvenir. Anyway, he laughed at me, signed the program and I walked away determined to throw it in the closest trash receptacle once I made it outside. I was embarassed and it felt wierd to feel shame about loving someone's music.
It's so New York to get played for fandom. I wish I hadn't kowtowed to the 5 boro endemic cool posturing but I have 'cause I don't like to feel bad.
But unfortunate encounter aside, I can't shake his music and I don't want to. I've his seen him performe countless times since and I've always been entertained and frequently catapulted to stratospheric heights. Dude's a force, a tremendous creative whose circle is just as strong.
I've always like "Love Poems" despite the spoken word breakdown. The vocal performance. The vocal arrangment. Here it is.
"Love Poems" [MP3]
Bilal
"...Black music is Black music and it's all good."
I was relatively unselfconscious about it until I moved to New York. I believe it was the summer after my first year of graduate school at NYU and I went to see Bilal perform at the Jazz Standard.
I had long pledged allegiance to D'Angelo and still do but then it seemed like B was the heir. In fact, at first I thought it was D singing on "Soul Sista" when my friend Marcia played it off the Love & Basketball Soundtrack in her Spelman dorm room one evening.
So sitting through an intimate performance at Jazz Standard where he was joined by N'Dea Davenport was a treat. At show's end, he was loitering a few feet from me so I decided to get him to sign my program. I walked up to him, greeted him and made my requestst to which he screwfaced "why?"
I didn't have an answer. I wanted something to take home but can't imagine I articulated it all that well. I wasn't blogging then. I didn't have a camera. The program would have been my souvenir. Anyway, he laughed at me, signed the program and I walked away determined to throw it in the closest trash receptacle once I made it outside. I was embarassed and it felt wierd to feel shame about loving someone's music.
It's so New York to get played for fandom. I wish I hadn't kowtowed to the 5 boro endemic cool posturing but I have 'cause I don't like to feel bad.
But unfortunate encounter aside, I can't shake his music and I don't want to. I've his seen him performe countless times since and I've always been entertained and frequently catapulted to stratospheric heights. Dude's a force, a tremendous creative whose circle is just as strong.
I've always like "Love Poems" despite the spoken word breakdown. The vocal performance. The vocal arrangment. Here it is.
"Love Poems" [MP3]
Bilal
"...Black music is Black music and it's all good."
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