Two princes

Not too long ago I decided to pay a whole load of cash to go see a legendary guy in concert. And well I guess the disapointment was pretty much just as big as the legend itself... It pains me to say that my first reaction leaving the venue that night was: "Bob Dylan... check, done."

Weirdly enough, in the same period I went to see two other concerts. Two other guys whose legends have not entered music history yet but which have already and definitely reached my heart.

I know I'm quite late on their discovery and I can only put the blame on myself as both their names had been familiar to me for some time. But they both made an incredible impression on me when I saw them live and I'm about to explain why.

The first guy I'm gonna talk about is Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, an American songwriter about whom I knew nothing until very recently. Well, apart from the fact that he was the guy who'd wrote 'I see a darkness' (The song Johnny Cash made an exeptional version of on American Recordings III -Solitary Man). Not that I actually know more about him now, but I have to say I'm not sure I actually wanna know and here's why.

When we decided to go see him when he'd be in Paris, I started playing five of his albums on repeat and became familiar with his peculiar voice and his quiet instrumentaly-stripped down songs while playing a certain wii game...

It took me approximatively 3 weeks to finish the game, and by that time Bonnie 'Prince' Billy's voice had forever anchored the visual elements of the game in my mind. So yeah, from now on, I can't hear one of his songs without picturing the game... :P

The weirdest thing is that I had no idea that Bonne 'Prince' Billy was a tall bald and moustache man and when I saw him walk in on that stage that night, I just coudn't bring myself to believe the voice I knew so well was coming out of that strange body... Even now, as I listen to the songs, I know it's gonna take some time for it to sink in.

The second prince I wanna talk about might not call himself that but deserves the title all the same. His name is Vic Chesnutt and he's a hero.

I vaguely knew him from his REM connection but had not realised my good ol' uncle Michael Stipe had actually produced some of his albums.

The reason we were at that gig was because Teitur was opening and I have to say I would have gladly left after his wonderful set if curiosity hadn't kept me on my seat to hear what the Chesnutt guy sounded like.

But before I got to actually hear his voice, I first "saw" him. And that was quite an astonishing sight...

There he was, so small, sitting in his wheel chair, swimming in his clothes, with his guitar strapped around his neck with a little rope.

Wikipedia revealed later on that he had been in a car accident in his twenties and that he had been left partially paralized but thankfully still able to play his guitar.

The best part of the night happened when the first impression of sadness and pity that might have gone through my mind as I saw him was completely swept away when the concert started and when the first few lines of the song melody flowed from his mouth. The strength and assurance was amazing. The words were harsh and straight-forward and didn't leave any bullshit flying around in the air. He sang his pain, his joys and made us complelety forget the band accompagnying him.

For some of you, these two guys might be old news... to others, they might be unknown artists... but I just thought they deserved to be praised for all the qualities they showed during the gigs and for the emotion they constantly put forward through their music. Seriously, to me, they made Bob Dylan look like a pathetic old retired singer trying to sing blues songs in his neighborhood café...

If you didn't know them before, you may have the will to try out their music or not. Just know that a third of the year has passed and these two people are so far, what made it worth for me musically. Enough said... ;)