Last night we went to Salim’s birthday retrospective show. He played songs from Polaroid, Beautiful Noise, Snowing in my Heart, Constellation, and Hit Parade in the first set. Friends for Life, Skeleton Closet, Somewhere South of Sane, and stuff from The Travoltas and NHD comprised the second set. We had to leave at intermission to relieve the babysitter. Also, we are so tired these days. We’re getting older but have less time to sleep.
His catalog is really astounding, both in its size and quality. Tonight really drove home that point. He played without a PA, just his nylon string guitar and his voice, in that small, beautiful listening room behind his house on Vickery. It’s somewhat unbelievable that Salim is still able to make his living playing music, but it’s equally astonishing that he isn’t more well known. Dallas has given the world a lot of great music.
I’ve known Salim for about thirteen years now. It’s hard to believe. I remember when I first told a friend that I was going to record with Salim and she was somewhat shocked. She asked how that came to be. I said, “I called him.”
So much has happened in these thirteen years. The last three records of that first set’s quintet, for one. And four of the five records I’ve released, and almost all the tracks on those records were recorded in that studio. My polaroid is still on the wall there. I look so incredibly young. Since it was taken, four residences, five jobs, three children, friends made and lost, too much drama, lots of Endless Dream Days.
Salim sings a lot about the passing of time, I’m just now realizing. All Waste the Days, This Soft Existence, Days Disappear, Be Here Now, Life in a Split Second, In the Blink of an Eye. Tonight he said to me, “We’re always just going forward, we don’t take time to look back.” (I won’t list his songs about the past, it’s a longer list.) I’m also in this mode of looking back.
Where do days go? Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever know. #