by Christopher Schlegel

I know a guy that plays guitar very well. He loves jazz, he loves to practice and he loves to discuss music theory. At least he pretends to whenever I confront him with the subject. And I confront him frequently as it is one of my favorite topics. Come to think of it, I hope he loves, or at the very least, likes talking about (maybe more appropriately, listening to me rant and rave about) complicated abstract musical constructs. Otherwise, I think he should just tell me to “Shut the hell up, already!” Of course, he is one of those rare human beings that is probably acting as polite and good natured as he actually is.

One day I went to talk to this guy and I found him in the process of rehearsing for a peculiar performance. I probably shouldn’t use that descriptive adjective. Not because of wanting to avoid hurting the feelings of people in charge of this operation. Rather, because to be a musician attempting to make an actual bill-paying living at music, every job could be properly labeled and tagged “peculiar”. Which, of course, makes the use of that word in this context pointless. Perhaps it is best to simply observe that music is a peculiar career in general and leave it there.
Eventually, I will take the time to justify that statement with some clever anecdotes and hard frightening facts. However, one topic at a time . . . and I already have one in my sights.

So, after playing, practicing and learning for many years (including an expensive formal education at some prestigious School Of Music In The Northeast) this guy finds himself, guitar in hands, rehearsing at a performance. This particular performance consisted of elementary school children (fourth graders, I think) singing short arrangements (with one notorious exception) of hundreds (maybe thousands?) of American Popular Tunes from about 1955 to 2000. It appeared to be organized, arranged and choreographed by several of the children’s teachers and was entitled “American Pop”. It lasted several hours, during the course of which the kiddies dressed in somewhat historically accurate costumes, sang, danced and in cases acted out clever little scenarios. As to the costumes, it was difficult at times to pinpoint the overlapping eras as well as whether or not the effect was a goofy parody or a reverent tribute. It probably depended on each individual’s viewpoint. For example, was Elvis an American Hero and The King of Rock and Roll or was he a pill-gobbling lousy movie star? Be careful of your answer. That type of thing that can land you in serious trouble in Tennessee. (By the way, in case anyone is interested, Chuck Berry is the King of Rock and Roll.)