Last night I was able to experience Antony and the Johnsons live. I didn't know what to think when he had first walked on stage. He would later tell us that we probably "think I look like Dracula..." I don't know, it's hard to even think of the words to describe the experience I had. To my right was my best girlfriend Nancy who I had introduced to his music a few months back. To my left was my very close friend Tony who was the first person I emailed some songs to the day I bought the newest album on one of my many trips from Florida to NYC. A few rows back was another one of my closest friends Domenick, enjoying the show with his boyfriend. And a few rows forward was my friend David, a friend who has popped in and out of my life over the past 6 years. It was on one of those evenings that we ran into each other that we got to talking about music and he was the person (THANK YOU, DAVID) that introduced me to Antony and the Johnsons. Side note: the trip I had taken to NYC when I ran into David...I was supposed to have gone to Dallas but at the last minute changed my mind and went to NYC to visit my friends.
It's hard to say I enjoyed the show. I did, but if you were to look at me at any stage of the show, I was either crying (mostly) or laughing (at the perfect times). Antony's comedic relief was spot on. "You might be worried...about...uhm...the lack of upbeat songs." "Trust me, this is something I am working on."
The entire experience was profound, but one moment that stood out over all was when Antony wrapped his arms around the entire audience by asking us to join him in a song. Totally accapella, with no insturments except the help of the audience, Antony had the entire crowd humming as he sang some of the most beautiful words. He told us to picture a circle of dust in the bottome of our throats and to just release whatever noise we felt a circle of dust would make. He had us all laughing at this mental picture, but the laughter was replaced by overwhelming emotion as he began to sing some of the most beautiful words and showed us such amazing emotion with his hand gestures and body movements as he turned and faced the entire NYC crowd he had just brought together by having us all hum. New Yorkers, by far, are a jaded group. But, the beauty of this mans music and the energy of the experience brought us all together. Town Hall, where we saw the show is NOT small, but I think each and every one of us felt as though we were sitting next to him at the piano. I was happy to see that the crowd was so receptive and beautiful. If you go to antonyandthejohnsons.com and go to the MP3 section, one of the songs you are able to listen to, the very first song that gripped me and never let me go is "Hope there's someone". Antony's voice sang to the deepest depths of my soul as he hit that first note perfectly..."Hope there's someone who will take care of me, when I die..." It's his voice. The voice, mixed with the poetry he has written is just incredible. I've NEVER had another persons voice speak to me as Antony's does.
I feel like I could just babble on and on about this experience, but a part of me already feels as though I've made a very private moment, public. I will save some feelings just for me.
July 29 2005, 17:04:06 UTC 6 years ago
Man, I wish I could have been there, it sounds like a show I would have really loved. Stupid work! :-P
Did Antony stick around afterwards, or did he just up & go?
July 29 2005, 19:05:27 UTC 6 years ago
I just read this on a yahoo group fansite.
I have tried to explain why this music affects people so deeply but words have failed me. Then, on the way home to London from the magical concert in Ferrera, I read this. It’s by Nadeem Aslam from Maps for Lost Lovers and I think it says it all: ‘..listeners would be engrossed by those musicians who seemed to know how to blend together all that life contains, the real truth, the undeniable last word, the innermost core of all that is unbearably painful within a heart and all that is joyful, all that is loved and all that is worthy of love but remains unloved, lied to and lied about, the unimaginable depths of the soul where no other can withstand the longing and which few have the conviction to plumb, the sorrows …..’