Opinion: The mighty gift of music

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Billy Fried

So, besides the tireless tumult of traffic, the nattering nuisance of noise, the punishing promulgation of pollution, and my awesome abuse of alliteration, how was your summer? Well, the weather didn’t disappoint. Another summer of zero air conditioning while the rest of the planet roasted like a pig on a spit. And that prolonged spate of warm water we got in late summer? Mana from the gods. Who went in for a quick dip, then stayed for hours? The gooiest feels ever. But that’s just tent stakes living here. The real unexpected delights come when you brave the great unwashed and head into the nether regions of the great metropolis.

I had that experience one weekend this summer. It began on a Friday with Nick I and ADD at the newly refurbished Ivan’z House, the top floor of Mozambique. Ivan’s childhood friend Blondie Chaplin (of Beach Boys and Rolling Stones fame) sat in on guitar, trading sweet licks with the great Bob Hawkins, with the sublime Jelani Jones on keys and harmony, and charismatic crooner Nick Hernandez captivating the crowd. It’s a great big live music room now that showcases our outstanding local talent, and kudos to Ivan for manifesting it.

Saturday night was a run to Inglewood with a caravan of Lagunans to see the great bluegrass picker Billy Strings. It was non-stop dancing to a high-energy band with no drummer.

And then Sunday came. The holiest of days. I toyed with the idea for months about making the pilgrimage to Highland, Calif., and the Yaamava Casino, even though the concert had long been sold out. It was their only Southern California date on the tour, and I ran the risk of driving an hour and a half and getting skunked. But I went for it. I mean, when would I ever have a chance to see the greatest rock and roll singer of all time. The shirtless man in the low-cut, hip-hugging pants wailing dangerously into the microphone in what could only be described as Luciferian taunts. Those dangerous, sexually suggestive lyrics and wailing had parents terrified and their daughters under lock and key. This man changed my life when I was 14. But that was many moons ago.

And now, finally, a chance to see him in the flesh. At a working-class casino in the foothills of San Bernardino. The theater was tucked discreetly in the back. I asked for the box office. They didn’t have one, but the usher told me to explain my predicament to her boss, who was standing in the corner. I approached and said I was looking for one ticket. He reached into his pocket, handed me one, and told me it was my lucky night. And in I went, sitting 10 rows from the stage, to see my hero, Robert Plant, singing with the Bluegrass Diva, Allison Krauss, on their “Raise the Roof” tour.

Music is like food. You can bring in different cultures, mix it all up, and create an unexpected and delicious hybrid. And so it was back in 2007, when the Led Zeppelin crooner surprised the music world by teaming with Nashville queen Allison Krauss to record their monster hit album “Raising Sand.” It was a Plant we weren’t accustomed to, subdued, singing harmonies in the lower register, and serving the decidedly Americana music. And what perfect harmonies they were. If anyone is familiar with Krauss, you’ll know this is a side project to her main gig with Union Station. And her honey voice just soars with the angels.

They entered from opposite ends of the stage, smiling and stepping up to their mikes, knowing they were about to deliver magic. Plant looked the shaggy rock elder, though unadorned with flashy clothes or jewelry. At 76, here was a legend who could be luxuriating on a mega yacht off the Med, or doing a reunion Led Zeppelin tour at the Sphere and raking in billions. But no, he was in a tacky casino singing the music he loves with a vocalist he humbly shares equal billing with.

It was one for the ages, an experience when music lifts you up and away to the transcendent, rarified air of the heavens. Of knowing that whatever madness has crept into our world, at this moment, everything was perfect and beautiful and exultant.

And that is the gift of music, undoubtedly man’s greatest invention. And it reminds me yet again why I got involved in our little radio station: because so many people dedicate their time to offering the gift of music to you. Besides the block of new community shows on weekday afternoons, the bulk of our programming is beautiful, eclectic music. Please take a listen. I promise you will be surprised and delighted by the wide range of genres being curated for your pleasure: bluegrass, Americana, Hawaiian, electronic, reggae, funk, blues, jazz, rock, Latin, African and even Canadian. There’s so much —over 50 shows dedicated to music. Not many towns, large or small, can boast such an ambitious lineup. Kick back and let us know you’re listening. It will make sitting in traffic so much easier. Call in. Say hello, or become a member and let’s nurture this special gift we can leave to future generations—the gift of music.

Billy is the executive director of KXFM radio and the chief paddling officer at La Vida Laguna adventure sports company. He can be reached at billy@kxfmradio.org.

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