Jessica Bell
Web Editor
Kady Bell
Arts Editor

“We’ll cast some light and you’ll be alright ... for now”

-José González

What you are about to read is a journey through the future of rock ‘n’ roll; please do not try this at home without proper listening material.

Willowy whispers of “All that glitters is gold” resonated from atop the glistening stairway to musical heaven, shaking bodies and souls.

Amid a sky dotted with guitar-shaped clouds, an angel emerged in a halo of incendiary sound, her long black wavy hair flowing.

Singing the night’s first warning, she advised passengers to steer clear of promiscuous groupies disguised as bandaids and short-lived trends, but, most of all, not to heed the piper’s call.

Issuing a short prayer, “Let it ride, let it ride easy down the road,” she vanished.

A soft click and a swirl signified the beginning of a rock ‘n’ roll voyage; “In Stereo” Tour 2006.

 Disc One: The shadowlands of Magnolia Mountain, an alt-country haven starring Ryan Adams, former Whiskeytown front man and lyrical equivalent to Morrissey.

A sign that read “This House is Not for Sale” on Cherry Lane alerted the driver to the first of many musical destinations.

Plus or minus the Cardinals, wailings stuck in the bluesy south settled minds and eased worries as the bus rolled to a stop.

Standing on his front porch, cold roses cluttering the ground, a blue eyed-rocker sang songs until the morning came; songs as pretty as songs could be.

Spinning poetic recounts of New York loves and losses, woes and joys, he spoke of life on an easy plateau, where the water was as blue as his baby’s eyes, the cold never came and the wind ceased to blow.

As mockingbirds fluttered around his head, he wondered how to keep love alive and what it meant to be so sad, inviting all to walk through the star-covered fields to experience a sweet illusion.

His wise words reminded onlookers of the past while giving the pending future promise.

Most notably known for his cover of Oasis’ “Wonderwall,” visitors soon discovered that his albums were chock-full of rare gems.

The phrase “if I’m a stranger now to you, I will always be” did not fall on deaf ears.

As “the lights over the midway melted on the street,” no one was ready to leave the millennium’s primary musical genius behind.

Reappearing in a cloud of glittering dust, the angel reminded passengers to spread the musical wealth, asking them to keep all limbs inside the band wagon in spin to the next gig.            

Yielding to an army of roadies weighed down with heavy equipment, the bus geared for take-off.

With a quick flash of blinking lights and a slight shift in speed, the driver yelled, “Where is that confounded bridge?” and the bus journeyed on, revolving like a record, traveling over rainbows and venturing deep into the south.

Disc Two: It ain’t no jive.

The Black River, the hub of tantalizing Mississippi girls disguised as cherubs in flight, where echoes of “we got a chance to make it right” replaced hallowed mutterings of “let it ride,” was rumored to house a burgeoning soul man.

Money would be scarce, but lessons abundant and an artist named Amos Lee would guide the way, keeping it lose and tight.

With a spirit as open as the sky, oftentimes just as blue, he embodied a man who had seen it all before.

Carving the words “freedom is seldom found by beatin’ someone into the ground” on a decaying tree, he set his book of lies and pocket knife aside, crooning the opening strains of an earnest melody as he approached the oncoming bus.

He was not a wide-eyed rebel, but was no preacher’s son.

In honor of a new beginning, he shared a plate of love and several songs from an album exceeding supply and demand.

“How could you be so careless?” he asked aloud, proving adoration traveled well beyond black and white and dedicating his first song to those bold enough to believe in either love or war.

Surrounded by strangers, he served as a companion to plagued hearts.

Onlookers deemed him an instant sweet pea, the apple of their eyes.

Some found the adventure amusing but it was really just fantasy.

Gleaming bolts of lightning pierced the darkened atmosphere, illuminating the heavenly tour guide and time to move forward once again.

With the click of a remote, the radio in the sky beat on as track one consumed the silence.

Cautionary verses of “cast some light, it’ll be alright for now” pulsated repeatedly through the confined space, as the angel flickered in and out of view like a dying battery.

Mustering her final ounce of power, she announced the night’s last warning: “Check tickets and backstage passes at the door, we’ve reached the final leg of the tour.”

Disc Three: The streets outside your window; the horizons were blurred.

Strumming a classical melody on guitar, Swedish musical magician José González shook the dust from his jeans before lifting himself off the sidewalk.

He saved a day for long-awaited visitors, delivering more than distorted images and guiding them to a place where crosses lined the boulevards.

It had began to rain, and with it, came a rebirth of spirits.

Leaving a love stain on many hearts, he allotted one night of confusion and one night of fast truths to the forlorn and broken; those on the verge of ruin.

It was understood that he would bask in the white fluffy clouds of success and, with this knowledge, came hope that a veneer-brandishing savior would bring bliss.

Recharged the angel bid adieu to passengers.

Once again climbing the stairway to heaven, she knew that, with a word, they would realize why they had come.

As González would say, “We need hints before we get tired, we need speed before we lose pace.”

Casting light on up-and-coming musical prospects and revealing a holy trinity of songwriters, the rockangel earned her much revered wings.

Goodbye would not be forever but for now. The angel intended to come back for more.

The stereo powered off in quiet defeat, and with it, the love the now well-versed travelers had found.

Jessica Bell, a senior communications major, is web editor of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at ledjessilin@yahoo.com.

Kady Bell, a senior communications major, is arts editor of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at rzezna65@yahoo.com.