But now. Mourning Irsay, dare I say – with such, such a heavy heart.
Few have touched my life so deeply. James Irsay’s love of music and native genius found new ground on my dusty and distant muddy wit, pedestrian shores and wandering soul. As ships pass in the night, so too did I hear a meter near or far, take attention to and stop whatever I was doing.
Comparatively, one early dawn, and dialing in one of my fav stations in NY, WBAI, did one “Morning Irsay,” begin a pause, and upon a simple measure or two, of notes or words, was all – never the same. His archives, like Alan Watts lectures, deserve as much!
