Growing up, I knew exactly when spring had come to stay. My mama was our household meteorologist.
I knew it was officially spring when my mama went out on our back, screened in porch, unstacked the bamboo furniture and put the green and white floral cushions in their spots. These were the days I lived for- to come home after school, grab whatever textbook I needed to review, or the latest novel that I was engulfed in, curl up in the corner of the couch and be there until dinner was on the table.
During this time of year my friends knew that if the front screened door was on and locked, to walk around to the back- we lived on the porch. On the weekends, this porch was a late night entry. The screen door could be opened and shut slowly and the sliding door was a silent accomplice. Granted, I was one of those kids that was too scared to use these advantages, but I was well aware of my options.
My junior year proved to be the most trying of my high school years and along with a rooftop window, the back porch was a perfect escape. For one particular friendship, this porch, the breeze that danced through the screen, the music that played from the stereo in the kitchen or an old acoustic-- any memory on the porch was overthrown by the memories with that particular friend. Seeing Amos Lee up on stage last night, a blond Fender in his hand, singing about living over the rainbow- I was 17 and on my back porch again, with a boy that taught me how to smell the rain before it fell.
Amos Lee is a presence, he's a magnet. He makes eye contact, he pulls you in, he ingests you with his words, and the liquid voice that he uses to sing them. It's like you're the only person in the room and he's telling this story just to you.
His hands were smooth along the guitar neck. He danced with the mic-stand, untouched. "Violin" was a heart-wrenching call for love lost, the waiting game in a melody. "Arms of a woman" pushed too close to the line of a lullaby for a girl to take, when her boyfriend is out of arms length, while "Keep it loose, keep it tight" is a song that had the whole room singing along. He covered "Fat Bottom girl" to bring the mood up a ways, and his smile out-lit the stage lights.
Amos Lee is a breed of musician that is slowly finding their way out of the curtains, and into the center of the room. Along with the rock and rollers of Will Hoge, the Louisiana sultry voice of Marc Broussard, this level of connection is an almost indescribable --- I've done my best.
I advise you to buy the above mentioned songs- along with "Windows Are Rolled Down" and get your drive on.
Amos Lee has made for a great summer at the beach:)
"We all need a place where we can go and feel Over The Rainbow... sometimes we forget what we got, who we are, and who we are not. I think we got a chance to make it right..."
