Song of the Week: “Sultans of Swing” by Dire Straits
What sustains the artists who outlive their egos? When, at last, you get it: you’ll never be “famous.” Daydreaming about it’s not even fun anymore. Why torture yourself? You have your whole long, interminable life ahead of you. A life made richer not by daydreams, your job, or your kids but by the music, because you’re damn good at making it—the best—but nobody’s ever going to know it. Just you, and your friends on stage. You read in the paper that most people die alone, so jamming together, this good, every Friday, ain’t half bad. You got more than most. One rainy night in a near-empty jazz club, nineteen-year old Mark Knopfler saw it all. A baby, but even then, a guitar samurai. The solo at the end: sick, brilliant, just enough flash with zero percent ham. The melody: super-smooth, but nothing easy or familiar. The rhythm section counts it down—swift, undaunted.
-Jennifer L. Knox
Jennifer L. Knox’s new book of poems, The Mystery of the Hidden Driveway, is available from Bloof Books. Her first two books of poems, A Gringo Like Me and Drunk by Noon, are also available from Bloof. Her poems have appeared in The New Yorker, American Poetry Review, and four times in the Best American Poetry series. She is currently at work on her first novel.
Questions, compliments, (hopefully not) complaints?
Contact Jackie Clark: jackie [at] coldfrontmag [dot] com.