The whole world is enchanted by the Sixto Rodriguez story. And no wonder. It has such heart-warming and redemptive qualities. Rodriguez — and his story — touch our hearts.
Last night I attended his concert in Brisbane in a relatively small theatre, The Tivoli, which stands 500. Stands, not sits. Standing for some of us grey-haired ones was a challenge for nearly four hours, but we stood it. We stood up to it.
And we agreed it was worth it.
The audience was allsorts: South Africans who knew his music as the powerful voice of the anti-apartheid movement, newbies like me, Australian fans from his tours here in the 1970s. Allsorts, all ages. We sang along to the songs we knew and cheered the others.
We cheered him.
Only in Australia would you hear, “Goodonyer, Cisco!!”
We’re the same age, Sixto and I, though he’s had a much harder life and it shows in his face and in his needing to be helped on stage. But once he’s into it, he’s no longer 70. Or maybe he is 70.
Who knows?
This mystery man, peering out at us through thick glasses — and philosophising on culture, violence against women and cannabis law reform — seemed to be glowing with delight. And perhaps– we can only guess — marvelling at what has finally come of what might have been.
He’s reported to have remarked recently, It’s never too early and it’s never too late.
Lately, having just turned 70 myself, I marvel at my “elder mind”: so synergistic, multi-dimensional, creative, brave. I love my courageous mind!
Courage is what I saw and heard last night. You’d need that — and some special Hispanic chutzpah — to cover songs by Elvis, Bob Dylan, and Cole Porter’s “Just One of Those things” so beloved by Frank Sinatra.
Those three I recognised. There were more, including Midnight Oil’s “Redneck Wonderland”.
“Blue Suede Shoes” was a knockout!
Bob would have cheered (as we did) his rendition of “Like A Rolling Stone”.
Some of us cried.
I pushed my way through the crowd toward the exit as he was helped from the stage at the end of the concert. I was eagerly seeking a taxi on a rainy Easter night and worried for my Beloved, too sick to attend.
I confess that an ageist thought crossed my mind:
“He won’t have an encore in him.”
As I stepped into the taxi, Rodriguez’s voice with its melodic, sparkling rhythmns — came pouring through the theatre foyer, lyrics splashing through the door and onto the dark, rainwashed streets, enlivening them.
It was his second encore.
He was still singing.
Shame on me.
Lovely Wendy S!
A spontaneous, appreciative outpouring from you, as so much of your conversation is. Almost as good as sharing a cup of tea with you.
I was there on the Monday night 1st of April.. same sort of crowd that you had .. lots of South African expats, grey hairs and lots of young people.
It was lovely to see him perform, I only discovered him back January when I saw the documentary on him (Searching for Sugarman). what a revelation it was seeing him live. I am a little older than half his age but I could not have the stamina he had strumming his music and encores.
I have never been to a live music concert before this one and on top of that I was jet lagged from a trip back from Europe but still standing for four hours was not the least of my worries as I was swimming in the lyrics and music while being guided by his smooth voice. I felt for my wife who was there with me, it is not her kind of music but she nevertheless enjoyed it.
Thank you for sharing you experience and as Wendy said almost like sharing a cup of tea with you.