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Bob Dylan

 By Nancy Buchan 

I am a huge cheerleader for live music, as anyone who read my columns in the now-defunct Dominical Days would know.   I’m glad there are folks out there who love music in all its forms, but I’m especially thrilled that people will search out and support live music wherever it might be.   Give the mariachi guys a respectful listen and some colones.  Walk into the church when the local music students are playing a little concert.   Frequent and spend heavily in the bars that hire musicians and buy their cds directly from them.   Close your eyes and move to the music that will never again be played in just that way.   Be part of a glorious instant of creativity and communication.   Perhaps witness greatness.  

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Memories

By Nancy Buchan

 Music has been described as the ‘soundtrack of our lives’, and for most of us living today, that’s pretty accurate.  We’ve always had access to music –not just music being performed live, but music re-produced through vinyl recordings or cassette tapes or 8-tracks or iPods or computers or even player-pianos.  My generation leaned heavily on radio stations to presumably play the coolest new thing or to introduce us to new musicians.  Sometimes they were brave and experimental and sometimes they played only crap provided and pushed by the studios.   TV shows allowed us to hear everything from symphony orchestras to the then revolutionary Rolling Stones.   Then that medium morphed into MTV, which sent it a bit sideways with its preoccupation with visual looks and style.  There’s less control of what is out there now – the all-powerful record companies and distributors have been knocked on their butt by the internet – but there is still plenty of music being played and preserved somehow all over the planet.   Every generation seems to have their ‘own’ songs, and those songs can bring forth a memory of a time or place that is crystal clear. 

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