marble

The excitement grew immeasurably, if only because so much enigmatic seemed to be waiting for us. We mingled with the fabulous stream of night owls and let ourselves drift through the rain. "We" were my son and I. The time of day that had marked our start was so unusual that this fact alone caused much astonishment, because we would normally have long since been engaged in a magically drawn-out conversation about the absolute necessity of going to bed. "So it really doesn't start until 9:30 p.m.?" He repeated this question incredulously several times. So we were on our way to our first concert together. Jochen Distelmeyer had wandered into the "Rote Bar." He invited us to celebrate singing songwriting, and we had decided to support him. According to the program, we would hear original songs as well as covers. Singer, guitar, and that's it! I was absolutely ready to counteract the possibly burgeoning boredom with an extraordinary amount of "Cola." Of course, things turned out differently than I expected! The location was magical and the time flew by!

At this point, a comprehensive and detailed concert description usually follows. I won't give that away here, or even slip into anecdotes. Instead, I would like to tell you what happened after the evening. My son was the youngest audience member. His initial uncertainty about this quickly gave way to a certain pride, making it easy to switch into his "cool" mode. Apart from some of the adults' behavior, which he certainly found strange and which certainly raised questions or at least caused him some surprise, the evening was a huge success. Not least because of a certain amount of Coke, which was a must even without boredom.

In any case, this is where the magic that this text is actually supposed to be about comes into play. A wonderful power that arises when the delicate threads of music fill the room. Unnoticed, these waves sneak and creep through our interstices and fibers. They find their way directly into our hearts and souls. In doing so, they rhythmically rebalance our imbalances and lash heavy weights back into place. We find our so-called center again. This elusive being drives deep roots unnoticed into the core of our lives and dissolves the rigid and often cold reality into a shimmering caricature of it. In short, it's simply an awesome feeling!

The very next day, my son was already poring over Jochen 's Blumfeld and solo albums, studying the lyrics and questioning song titles. We discussed the power and necessity of poetry in music and the different sounds of instruments. A few days later, we recorded our first Beatles cover and orchestrated it ourselves. It was as if something had opened, a door into a vast realm. The key, or perhaps the initial spark to enter this place, was inconspicuously and elegantly presented. That's the power of music. If you harness it, incredible possibilities open up. And it's eternally true: after a good concert, you go home a different person!

Everyone should have sung in a choir, ensemble, or just together at least once in their life. The feeling of creating a sound that fills the room is indescribable. The realization of being present with one ear and listening to your surroundings with the other is very impressive and lasting. Then there was a guy sitting at the exit who asked for his jacket because of the draft. "Hey, Dad, there's the bro who just sang!" We got a record and Jochen signed it. The first record! Then we chatted a bit. No helicopters, no mega show, no fireworks, and no media hype. Just a guy who loves making music - pretty infectious! And even though I've been making music for so long, I still don't understand exactly how it works. Somehow it's magic! No bullshit!