When I go into reflection mode like this, I usually have a steady diet of tunes that I typically don’t revel in, or haven’t in many years.
Somehow, Regina Spektor came to mind this week, and I’ve been devouring every song and the memories of my twenties that those songs evoke.
As with most singer-songwriters, I just have to be in the mood, but I also cycle through classical, bossa nova, and electronica phases, as well you may know.
Last week, it was Stevie Wonder. More on that later.
So, yeah, Regina.
I had never heard of her until I saw her at a gig at Piedmont Park in Atlanta. I was there to see Johnette Napolitano, the frontwoman of Concrete Blonde, and Regina was opening for her.
There were LOTS of teenagers around. But they were all savoring her music and singing along (pre-smartphone era).
How did they know her music, I wondered?
Who listens to this shit?
It’s not that great!
(p.s. I hate Tori Amos.)
But she intrigued me, was very approachable and polite, charming, so beautiful and her performance was stellar.
I have, indeed, begun to hope for Sourdough.
I have fed the starter.
It will rise.
Until then, I have only hope.