Kile Smith visits a Cincinnati diner and meditates on the unexpected pleasures of live music and strange meats. You just never know what might happen.
If you think driving on Broad Street is like composing music, you would be correct. At least it is for me. Whatever lane I’m in is the wrong one.
There are three reasons to love snow; they're the same three reasons for loving anything.
Kile Smith accepts David Bowie's "serious moonlight" invitation.
The piece was rooted deep and that allowed the music to move quickly and lightly. It’s strong now, but doesn’t bellow. The music won’t call attention to itself, and that’s just how I like it.
National pride is not the enemy of world unity.
Music isn’t broken into the three parts of melody, harmony, and rhythm. It’s just melody.
Ideally, as a composer, your eyes and ears are always open; both the different and the same will surprise you.
In comparing the making of music to the making of a joke, I’m not saying that music ought to be funny. The main sense of a sense of humor is funniness, of course, but the best comedians handle all the humors.
We craved rhythms that would pound in a chest where we hoped was a heart, and, oh, we wished for melodies that would soar above the cracking ruins of an imagined world. We wanted Yes, and then Yes came, and Yes was ours.