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The Terminal Tavern
By David Wilc0x
Ah, what a beautiful place.
It is so lush and quiet in these walls.
Its a place where the sound really stands a chance of finding its way.
And Im grateful cause, man, there are a lot of gigs thats just really hard.
The sound doesnt stand a chance.
A lot of times theres a gig thats between somewhere and somewhere else.
You really wouldnt go there to play it, but the booking agent says Well youre on your way. Why dont you stop and play, you know, the Terminal Tavern.
As my friend Gamble would say, What a skull orchard.
I mean imagine straining good, fine art sensibility through that veil of chicken wire.
Its the kind of place where you gaze about you at those walls of pecky Cyprus and pine wood adorned with frontier memorabilia and mint-condition tire tool sets.
And the ceiling under slung with fish net encrusted with detritus and streaming down through the steaming midnight air, a million shattered dreams that dangle like declensions of despair.
And the daily drunks just line the walls like lemmings in repose.
The festering booze assaulting their entrails, like time-release suicide.
Theyre stuck to that sticky floor and theyre not moving.
And you think, What do they need?
Well, I dont have that.
What have I got?
Ive got an acoustic guitar, its not enough.
Ive got words.
I wonder if they stand a chance to be heard.
Maybe music doesnt stand a chance.
I mean, I can make sound.
I have vocal chords.
I have strings.
I can make sound.
Who needs sound?
We need music and music is much bigger than that.
Music is timing with a capital T.
Music is hearing a song that sounds like your song, cause its just what youve been dreaming of or thinking of, or praying for.
Suddenly its speaking right to you.
And sure, therere all these other people here but theyre just superfluous.
Its your song and it was meant just for you.
It hits home and its real, cause its coming from some place much bigger.
But in that place you look around and you think, Oh man theres no chance for this to happen. Therere so many distractions.
Theres always distractions.
All you can do is send it out.
I think Stings analogy of songs is a great one saying, Its a message in a bottle.
You take all your best hopes and dreams and send it out in a bottle.
Toss it in the ocean.
Whoever gets it and when they get it, well it has more to do with the ocean than it has to do with you.
Thats good, the ocean can be trusted, if the timing is right.
Send it out as best you can.