The list

The guy wrote hundreds of songs. He has been playing a huge role in american underground music since the eighties. A true legend. But we were barely twenty fans that night to see him perform. It was quite embarrassing. Before the opening act begun, the friend I was with told me he thought that, at the age of digital communication, everybody knew about this show. Finally doubting about the efficiency of the so-called social networks services, he was beginning to think that maybe, he should have done the same thing he did twenty years ago, when the one who was a real star for us, first came to Paris: he was so excited that he printed homemade flyers, and distributed them a few days before the concert.
When the first song began, he was so generous, his words moved so many memories and emotions in me, that I didn’t care about how many we were or anything no more. After he played one of the most important songs in my life (the one about an angel with brown eyes, much better looking than Jodie Foster), I realized I was smiling like a child, tears not so far from the eyes. And then I noticed the track list lying near his feet. Maybe if I could read it, I would know in advance which of my other favorite songs he would sing tonight. But the music was already resuming and I recognized the first words of The Sunny Side of Street. I decided to keep staring at his old rock and roll singer childish face, and to let surprises come. Indeed, it was a lot better.
Later, we came to him, thanked him. And I didn’t have the guts to ask him for the track list.