On Saturday night, Don Fiorino, Mark Flynn, Chris Jones, and Stereophile’s Bob Reina came together, within the walls of Merkin Concert Hall, as Attention Screen. I sat in the audience, watching and listening as these four men exchanged ideas, made music. I'm not going to say it was beautiful. I'm not going to say it was interesting.
What do these words mean, anyway?
It certainly wasn't right, and it was the farthest thing from perfect. It was too loud, it was too long, they made too many mistakes. Sometimes the conversations went nowhere; sometimes the conversations didn't even begin. Sometimes it was impossible to be clear, impossible to be understood. And, of course, they didn't always agree. In fact, they probably missed more than they met. But still. I'm not going to say it was beautiful. I'm not going to say it was interesting.
But still.
I sat there in the audience, knowing I could never write about it. What could I say? Thank goodness Wes Phillips was there.
Don Fiorino, Mark Flynn, Chris Jones, and Bob Reina came together and made music. They watched one another, mimicked emotions to better understand, lost sense of time and place and self, and, for indescribable moments, became one.
It didn't always work. And why should it? Why, when they had those moments?
