Our Man in Europe, now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "Swansong!"
...WE HAVE ALL DIED A HUNDRED times AS IN a rehearsal, a repetitive SOUNDCHECK: "1-2! Check 1-2!" before our finale, that swansong concert? ...Fluttering in limelight, we have spread our talent (?) like gypsy moths before an audiences' hypnotic gaze, flickering "avec" guitar or tambourine with gossamer wings, some pirouette, some drunken stagger by a microphone stand, some smashed guitar, some mosh-pit dive into that unpredictable YAAH! of Hollywood fame.
Some found, some resound, some burnt out, some strive. A lounge gig to heaven until U die. Some WAIL; some sing. Some walk on by. Some, a "strut & fret" into their own magic hour. Perhaps their finest hour never to know? Many of course sail into a World of no-return leaving behind a guitar in the trunk of a burnish Mustang auto, a change of clothes. Some weed.
Then one day some clown in a Hollywood studio who ordinarily just makes the coffee, dusts off an old 2-inch tape: Some song some kid begged to record, plays it by, a snippet in front of INDUSTRY STARS, Robert PLANT, Rod STWEART, or Stevie NICKS. Their geriatric fading talent gleams in their eyes, a lifetime of glory, fame, mega-wealth un-disguised, pounce like vultures, the star making machine, once again, UN-paralyzed!
We have ALL died a hundred times, yet after we are gone, a legacy of DAZZLE may touch your humble resting place and sing your "besties" song? Word travels fast to Heaven. My old girlfriend, a now aging ballerina, an inspiration for the song, heard of its recording-resurrection, sauntered by, announced herself, but the Studio slammed the door in her face!
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
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