Silence can be of tremendous value.
His charm was pure southern. It was slow and easy going, backed up with a comfortable, believable friendliness. You always felt like Tom Petty was your buddy.
There was no artifice to be found. No false attempt to be cool. There was no obscuring of who he was. It was all right there in his work.
Katy Perry allows the world to Witness an attempted messy transition back to herself.
Defiant and Profane, Kesha doesn’t just bounce back on her third album, she goes for the throat.
He had a complex way of looking at, and constructing music. There was a true sound, and style, in his work that was unmistakable. It was subtle, it was nuanced. It could be found in every meticulously crafted millisecond of music recorded under the Steely Dan banner.
My son, Gavin Alexander Fergus Moir, is born promptly at 7:00 p.m., and I realize that I will remember this date forever. He is perfect, healthy, and LOUD. At 7:30, my wife looks up at me and says, “You can still make the show.”
He was equally comfortable with a banjo or bagpipe—whatever served the song. His songs and sound may have been rooted in country, but his Top 40 appearances were frequent and memorable. He was a musician first and last.
I hate stepping out of my comfort zone, even if it is only for a few hours in the evening, to go see a performer I allegedly like, in person.
“This really is about continuing my songwriting and what we always did – Hugo and I, and Bruce and Michael and Beej too. But if those guys can’t be with us they can’t be with us. It’s the same legacy to me.”