Blogger’s note: Seems the mp3 files I embedded in this post caught the attention of Van’s people and they asked the powers that be at WordPress to remove them. Sorry, Van. I meant no infringement, just wanted to share the goodness.

I’ll confess this right up front: I was on a self-imposed Taylor Hicks hiatus most of last month. That didn’t stop me from hanging around with my friends and fellow fans on the SOS board, but I did take a break of sorts, from all things musically and visually connected to Taylor. The motivation for my hiatus isn’t important. Well, maybe it is, but not to anyone but me. And it doesn’t have anything to do with this post. My only reason for bringing it up is because, in the absence of Taylor’s music, I had a chance to rediscover other artists whose music over the years has managed to worm its way into my soul. I took the break as an opportunity to delve into and explore the music that eventually led to my love of Taylor’s musicality and unique soul.

Number one on that list was Van Morrison. Truth is, I don’t even know where to start with him. As the youngest of five children, I was exposed to Van’s music from as far back as I can remember. Tucked in between memories of my first trick-or-treating expedition at three and the first few years of grade school is the soundtrack of Van singing Gloria and Here Comes the Night and Brown Eyed Girl. But it was the album Moondance that hooked me completely and for life. I would sneak into my oldest brother’s bedroom while he was out with friends and flip through the stack of albums leaning against his bookcase of red bricks and wooden planks, searching for the cover with the photos of that auburn-haired, bearded magician. That’s what he was, you see, because all I had to do was place the album on the turntable, drop the needle into the groove and close my eyes. And like magic, I was transported to a different time and place.

These many years later, Van still manages to work his magic on me. Of course I’ve moved on from just listening to Moondance, and my catalogue of his music has grown. There are certain albums I always turn to when I’m in a Van state of mind, Moondance being one of them, Poetic Champions Compose another. There’s Tupelo Honey and Astral Weeks and A Night in San Francisco and too many others to name; a veritable smorgasbord of music to fall into, filled with song after song of everything that is right and wonderful about this Irish magician.

But there is one stretch of eighteen minutes and fifty-four seconds, the final three songs on the album Into the Music, that has achieved what I think is absolute perfection when it comes to music. The one-two-three punch of And the Healing Has Begun, It’s All In the Game and You Know What They’re Writing About is an astonishing and goose-bump raising alchemy that never fails to reach right in and grab me by the heart. By the time I reach the final whispered line of You Know What They’re Writing About, Van’s voice has teased me, tempted me, taken me to church and baptized me, leaving me grinning like an idiot and crying like a baby. It just doesn’t get any better than that. And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t share that with all of you? It would be a shame, I tell ya!

So without further ado, I give you my idea of absolute auditory perfection. What are some of your pieces of perfect music? What moves you?

The eve of the new year seems to be a time when many folks re-evaluate their lives, both personally and professionally. They take stock of their accomplishments and their failures and make plans for the year to come, vowing to make changes that will enable them to become more. More prosperous; more compassionate; more patient; more assertive; more healthy; more of whatever it is they feel they’re lacking.

I’ve been busy taking stock of my own life the past few weeks. Luckily I’m self-aware enough to know I’ve screwed up royally in some aspects. But I’ve also done pretty well at others. What I’ve discovered along the way is that it really is a balancing act between what makes us feel successful on the inside and what society tells us are the true hallmarks of success.

We tend to see celebrities and rock stars and business moguls as examples of successful people, of what we can one day be if we just work hard enough. We put athletes and movie stars and musicians on pedestals and dream of someday living in mansions and driving fancy cars and wearing designer clothes just like they do. We want to be like them. That is, until the day they tumble off that pedestal – for whatever reason – and we see them for what they actually are: flesh and blood and full of flaws, just like you and me.

When we’re faced with this we seem to react in two distinctly different ways: we become disappointed in these fallen idols and search for reasons to blame them for being human, or we rethink our definition of what actually makes a person successful. Is it the size of your bank account or the size of your heart that matters most? The square footage of your home or the family that resides within those walls? The number of albums you sell or the number of lives you touch?

Much has been made in the Taylor Hicks internet fan world of his success – or lack of the same, depending on where you go and what you read. I blogged about this subject some time ago and my feelings about it haven’t changed. If I may quote myself: “It’s not my place to declare when Taylor has reached a desired level of success. That call is his and his alone.”

At yet here we are, almost two years after I wrote that, still bickering amongst ourselves over whether he’s become a success or squandered it all. Depending on who you listen to, he’s either reaching his apex with the help of Grease and all doors in his future are wide open, or his admittedly unique fanbase has dragged him down into depths of failure from which he’ll never recover. There are, of course, variations of these proclamations, but I’m speaking generally and not specifically.

And then there are those of us who view success and Taylor’s career in a different light. I could try to describe it in my own words, but I think I’ll borrow those of Bessie Stanley instead:

He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who has never lacked appreciation of earth’s beauty or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction.

Taking this into account, I’d say Taylor Hicks has been pretty damned successful. And as a fan, I feel a fair amount of (dare I say it?) pride in him. I didn’t choose to have my life touched by this man and his music, but I’m glad it was. It’s certainly better than spending my time and money on someone who measures success by less humanistic standards.

So in closing, and on this eve of the new decade, I’d like to wish you all much success. May 2010 be the year we all begin to measure our worth by the lives we touch. And let us live in peace.

Credit to Samz999999

Bloggers note: Bessie Stanley’s essay on success was first published November 30, 1905 in the Lincoln, Kansas Sentinel. And though an adaptation of this has been attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, nothing like it has been found in his writings.)

As has become a sort of tradition for me, I’m posting the mp3s of Taylor Hicks and his band’s 2005 Workplay Christmas set on this blog as a gift and a thank you to my faithful readers and to all of Taylor’s fans.

This gig, performed on December 23, 2005, remains one of my very favorites. It’s the last known recorded and publically distributed set that exists before Taylor took off for the bright lights of Hollywood and the American Idol stage.

A lot has changed in four years. But the music remains the same. The quiet intensity of his performance of Levon on that late December evening can still move me to tears, just as Maybe You Should or Indiscriminate Act of Kindness from his latest album, The Distance, moves me. The raucous, down and dirty beat of Naked In the Jungle still finds me howling at the moon right along with Taylor. And I still can’t stop myself from singing along with his profanity-laced holiday greeting in Hell Of a Day, no matter how many times I play it – or who is within earshot. Maybe it’s wrong to wish someone a fucking great holiday, but it sure feels good to sing it.

This set is the one that hooked me back in my more innocent days, before being a fan meant choosing a side, or claiming an allegiance to a certain mind-set. Back when the shaggy-haired guy who sang of a change to come sent me to my computer scrambling for anything I could find about him. This is the set that convinced me there were still artists out there who cared about the music. Who felt it deep down in their souls and wanted nothing more than to share it with those who understood.

I remember asking myself when my journey with Taylor Hicks began how long I would be able to maintain what I considered then to be a high level of interest. I tend to be fickle in most other areas of my life. Easily bored and always searching for the next piece of mind and ear candy. But here I sit, almost four years later, still deeply entrenched in this weird world of Taylor Hicks fandom. And while the man himself has proven to be deeply fascinating on both an intellectual and emotional level, it’s the music that’s kept me captivated. Even when I’m ready to throw in the towel when it comes to the politics of this fandom, the music keeps me here. Now and, I’m thinking, for as long as he continues to make it do what it do.

In the spirit of the season, Taylor has given us a new gift of music: An mp3 of his entire performance at the Workplay Theater on September 26th of this year. You can find the download link at his official website:

www.taylorhicks.ning.com

Thank you, Taylor! For the music of the past, the music of the present, and the music yet to come. God bless us, everyone!

Levon

Gonna Move

Hell Of A Day

Superstition

Sneaking Sally Through The Alley

Will It Go Round In Circles

Nine To Five

Soul Thing

Naked In The Jungle

What I’d Say

Use Me

Dance To The Music

Hold On To Your Love

Hold On To Your Love Part Two/Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Yeah, so I was in Birmingham for the Taylor Hicks Workplay weekend last month. Took a crap-load of pictures and a few videos. Had every intention of writing a thorough recap, full of my impressions and reactions, along with some (hopefully) witty thoughts. But you know what? The words just wouldn’t come.

My muse has gone silent over Workplay. Maybe she’s just overwhelmed by the multitude of sights and sounds and emotions experienced those two evenings in that packed little theater. Or maybe she’s too busy constructing a quilt of memories from the daylight explorations and the nighttime musical buffets. Perhaps she’ll gift me with that quilt when it’s complete. Hand it over to me in one of those gossamer moments when I float between asleep and awake and whisper just the right words in my ear.

Or maybe she won’t. Maybe the perfect words to describe those days and nights in Birmingham will never come. And that’s okay, too. I’m happy either way. Because my response will be the same. Whether to the muse or to all of those who created those moments for me, my words would be simple and heart-felt. And they are these:

Thank you.