The Spirit of Music

Zusatztext [A] bit like Carlos Castaneda's shamanist tales, a bit like tween fiction, a bit like websites on, say, sonic healing through principles of sacred geometry andat its bestan enactment of epiphanies told in the ping-pong dialogue. . . . It's a book that stands happily against traditional music pedagogy and canned notions of achievement. This is to its great credit. Ben Ratliff, The Washington Post Wooten, bassist for Béla Fleck and the Flecktones, delivers a remarkable fable in which music is dying. . . . This allegorical foray into the power of music is both heartfelt and wildly imaginative. Music lovers will adore this sparkling manifesto. Publishers Weekly (starred review) Part exhortation, part New Ageish memoir, part philosophical treatise, Wooten's book is full of surprising and illuminating lessons. . . . [An] always rewarding delight for music fans of a mystical bent. Kirkus Reviews Informationen zum Autor Victor L. Wooten Klappentext Grammy Award winner Victor Wooten's inspiring parable of the importance of music and the threats that it faces in today's world. A VINTAGE ORIGINAL We may not realize it as we listen to the soundtrack of our lives through tiny earbuds, but music and all that it encompasses is disappearing all around us. In this fable-like story three musicians from around the world are mysteriously summoned to Nashville, the Music City, to join together with Victor to do battle against the "Phasers," whose blinking "music-cancelling" headphones silence and destroy all musical sound. Only by coming together, connecting, and making the joyful sounds of immediate, "live" music can the world be restored to the power and spirit of music. Leseprobe The First Measure Parents Know Best Never say what you're not going to do because that is your first step toward doing it. There's a joke that asks the question: How do you get a musician to complain? The answer: Give him a gig. Somehow, I'd fallen into the trap of disliking most of my gigs, and the previous one had left me feeling a bit unsettled. I didn't know what was causing it or how to make the feeling go away. I wasn't sure if it was Music or me who kept refusing to show up. I knew there had to be more to my musical life, but I didn't know what more meant or where to find it. After many months of struggling with myself, I decided to turn to the only two people who had always been there for me, who would definitely help me feel better, and who would not allow me to continue lying to myself. Mom and Dad have always been the fixers-­of-­all-­things. Almost two years had passed since I'd seen them and I was longing for their company. A visit would be good for my soul, and a home-­cooked meal would be good for my stomach. The ten-­hour drive would be good for my mind. Yes, I was running away from something­something I was trying to ignore­something I knew I would eventually have to face. I'd never paid close attention to my alarm clock. It would go off (too early), I would hit it, and keep sleeping. That was the normal routine. But on this particular morning, the harsh sound of the note G repeating in my ear caused me to sit up right away. I didn't know why I recognized the actual pitch. It had never happened to me before. Regardless, hitting Snooze was not an option. I did not want to hear that sound again. I quickly stopped the alarm and hopped to my feet. A few minutes later, an irritating note emitting from the microwave informed me that my food was ready. The out-­of-­tune C ruined my appetite. I picked up the phone to call my parents. Even the sound of the dial tone irritated me. I placed it back down without making the call. I tried to avert my attention, but my ears acted on their own and my brain colluded by not allowing me to ignore any of the sounds. By the time I made it into the car...

“[A] bit like Carlos Castaneda’s shamanist tales, a bit like tween fiction, a bit like websites on, say, sonic healing through principles of sacred geometry and—at its best—an enactment of epiphanies told in the ping-pong dialogue. . . . It’s a book that stands happily against traditional music pedagogy and canned notions of achievement. This is to its great credit.”  —Ben Ratliff, The Washington Post

“Wooten, bassist for Béla Fleck and the Flecktones, delivers a remarkable fable in which music is dying. . . . This allegorical foray into the power of music is both heartfelt and wildly imaginative. Music lovers will adore this sparkling manifesto.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

“Part exhortation, part New Age–ish memoir, part philosophical treatise, Wooten’s book is full of surprising and illuminating lessons. . . . [An] always rewarding delight for music fans of a mystical bent.” —Kirkus Reviews

Auteur
Victor L. Wooten is an American bass player, composer, producer, and five-time Grammy Award winner, as well as an original member of the jazz and bluegrass band Béla Fleck and the Flecktones. He is also the author of the parable The Music Lesson: A Spiritual Search for Growth Through Music.

Texte du rabat

Grammy Award winner Victor Wooten's inspiring parable of the importance of music and the threats that it faces in today's world. A VINTAGE ORIGINAL

We may not realize it as we listen to the soundtrack of our lives through tiny earbuds, but music and all that it encompasses is disappearing all around us. In this fable-like story three musicians from around the world are mysteriously summoned to Nashville, the Music City, to join together with Victor to do battle against the "Phasers," whose blinking "music-cancelling" headphones silence and destroy all musical sound. Only by coming together, connecting, and making the joyful sounds of immediate, "live" music can the world be restored to the power and spirit of music.

Échantillon de lecture
The First Measure

Parents Know Best

Never say what you’re not going to do because that is your first step toward doing it.

There’s a joke that asks the question: “How do you get a musician to complain?”

The answer: “Give him a gig.”

Somehow, I’d fallen into the trap of disliking most of my gigs, and the previous one had left me feeling a bit unsettled. I didn’t know what was causing it or how to make the feeling go away. I wasn’t sure if it was Music or me who kept refusing to show up.

I knew there had to be more to my musical life, but I didn’t know what more meant or where to find it. After many months of struggling with myself, I decided to turn to the only two people who had always been there for me, who would definitely help me feel better, and who would not allow me to continue lying to myself.

Mom and Dad have always been the fixers-­of-­all-­things. Almost two years had passed since I’d seen them and I was longing for their company. A visit would be good for my soul, and a home-­cooked meal would be good for my stomach. The ten-­hour drive would be good for my mind. Yes, I was running away from something—­something I was trying to ignore—­something I knew I would eventually have to face.

I’d never paid close attention to my alarm clock. It would go off (too early), I would hit it, and keep sleeping. That was the normal routine. But on this particular morning, the harsh sound of the note G repeating in my ear caused me to sit up right away. I didn’t know why I recognized the actual pitch. It had never happened to me before. Regardless, hitting Snooze was not an option. I did not want to hear that sound again. I quickly stopped the alarm and hopped to my feet. A few minutes later, an irritating note emitting from the microwave informed me that my food was ready. The out-­of-­tune C …