A musical promise at last fulfilled

Some eight or nine years ago, my wife and I discovered the music of jazz pianist/vocalist Diana Krall and quickly became such devoted fans (buying every one of her CDs) that we swore if she ever did a concert within a couple of hundred miles, we would go see it.

The time came last Thursday night at the Durham Performing Arts Center, and although Krall did not sing the sultry classics ("I've Got You Under My Skin," "Let's Fall in Love" or "'s Wonderful") we had fallen for, her performance did not disappoint. Accompanied for most of the show by a bass player, a drummer and electric guitarist Anthony Wilson, Krall never left the stage for about two hours as she interpreted familiar tunes and improvised jazz arrangements as charmingly as Miles Davis. She is an extraordinary pianist and has a vocal style that is soothing and alluring, but she showed off her jazz roots at the DPAC, giving each of her accompanists a chance to strut their stuff while she listened attentively or deftly accompanied on the Steinway. A couple of long, extended riffs left the audience entranced and wondering where the rhythm might lead.

Our seats were in the upper balcony, far above the stage, but the sight lines were good, and a pair of binoculars allowed me to see her well as she shuffled through sheet music and lines of lyrics on the piano and smiled while she chatted with fans in the expensive seats. The arena was filled, and the fans were knowledgeable, enthusiastic and appreciative.

With my wife, who bought the tickets as a late birthday gift for me, her sisters, stepmom and brother-in-law, it was a glorious evening that left us feeling sublimely fulfilled. I've punched one ticket on my bucket list.

Look at the way we were in 1964

Go to iTunes, search for Beatles and click on the Beatles concert video (not the YouTube video above). It's a 40-minute video of the Beatles' February 1964 concert at the Washington Coliseum. For those of us who remember the early days of Beatlemania, this concert video is a reminder of the unprecedented excitement that surrounded the band from Liverpool. It's also a look at the relative innocence of the day, with only a handful of police protecting the stage, but the audience, some of them screaming hysterically in the throes of Beatlemania, keep their seats and breathlessly await the next note, the next word, the next shake of their idols' hair.

Most impressive, however, is the simplicity of that concert. The four young men, all of them under 25, stride onto the stage, plug in their guitars, do a bit of tuning and launch into their repertoire, which seems largely unplanned, off the cuff. Their amplifiers and speakers are tiny compared to today's array of boulder-size speakers with stage monitors and huge soundboards to control everything. John, Paul and George tweak the sound a bit by twisting the dials themselves. Their equipment looks like something a middle school garage band might have, but they are the hottest musical act in the world at the height of their popularity.

Their concert was merely music and lyrics with a bit of chatter between songs. No one brought them freshly tuned guitars; they didn't switch instruments with each song as so many guitarists do now. They were only slightly removed from the amateur performers at The Cavern in Liverpool, where they had honed their sound. It's an amazing thing to see them as they were 46 years ago and to remember how we were and how much their music touched us and gave us happiness after that tragic November of '63, just three months before. And it's strange to remember their 45 rpm records and monaural LPs and the records that would sound scratchy and skip, but we didn't mind so much because their sound was so fresh and so original and was so exactly what we wanted to hear.

That 1964 concert had no special effects, no light towers, no smoke machines, no supporting musicians or vocalists — none of the things that make modern-day concerts more events or experiences at which the music seems to play second fiddle. Just four guys, three guitars, one set of drums, a couple of microphones to share and minimal amplification.

In the concert video posted free on iTunes, it's easy to see how much the four young men loved their music. John is gone now, the 30th anniversary of his murder fast approaching, and George is also gone. Ringo seems far removed from his drummer's throne; only Paul seems interested in music and performance, but it's only a hobby for him now; he doesn't really need it. But 46 years ago these four were something special, so special that it will never again be repeated.