This past week, Dimebag Darrell faced death by staring down the barrel of a stranger’s gun. Oddly, it always seems to be the “number one fans” who commit such horrendous random acts of violence against their beloved idols. Events like this makes one question why we should attempt to be a part of society at all.On a happier note, I was in New York City not too long ago, and the inherent rhythm of that urban jungle always amazes me. I counted four different groups of artists and musicians simply on the trek from Penn Station to SoHo, whether they were banging on garbage can lids, plucking on an old guitar, wailing on a brand new saxophone, or singing accapella for the crowd (my personal favorite).
Descending the steps into the subway of NYC on a weekend is like entering a chasm of beautiful sound, created by imaginary individuals, some desperate and some just there to have fun. If you’re not familiar with it, I highly recommend taking a tour of New York’s literal “underground” music scene sometime.