Larry's right. Good singing IS a form of acting. It's an essential part of the minstrel's art.

####

Having never heard me, Krinkle, you actually feel qualified to make judgments like that? Well, for your enlightenment and education, here's a review of a concert that Bob Nelson and I did together a few years back:

Concert Review, by Jordan Myers.
The light from the stained glass windows washed the little church with an autumn glow as we filed into the pews, excited murmurs filling the space where we waited for the music. As Bob Nelson and Don Firth were being introduced, I felt like I was looking in on a closely knit family joining in reunion: the audience, the announcer, the performers- there was an intimacy that truly surprised me. As they began, a complete hush fell over the crowd, allowing their voices and the sounds of their guitars to fill every corner of the room.

Watching the two perform, separately or in unison, one feels that behind their good-humored faces hides the history of hundreds of lives. Simple and real and earnest, they are like actors of short stories, giving us a small slice of another era through which we can enjoy a full spectrum of feeling and experience that would otherwise be entirely lost in the sands of time. Though reading a history book can give you times and places of events and an idea of what happened, an essential grain of humanity is lost in transition from the lives of history to the text. Bob played a few songs of cheek and vigor that had me envious of such a vital, simple time, wishing I could travel back and sit around a campfire with the protagonist, or be told secondhand of the extortion of a father by his daughter and her beloved.

One song struck me in its beauty of form and execution: a simple, sad Scottish ballad of longing sung by Don without accompaniment. His great voice rose and rumbled up in mourning to haunt the rafters of that fragile church with the memory of a love now centuries dead; the beauty of the ballad and of his steady voice struck me with a kind of pure sadness that is all but impossible to find in modern music- for a moment I felt as if I, too, were wandering the hills and valleys of Scotland singing a hopeless plea for companionship. I had always liked folk music, but never really pursued it- after seeing Bob Nelson and Don Firth perform, I have no choice but to seek it out whenever possible.

Read it carefully, Mr. Krinkle.

The reviewer, Jordan Myers, GETS it!

Don Firth