This concert tape comes from my stepmother’s own personal collection. Having so many jokes at hand even before picking up the box, I wondered if I’d need even watch to commit myself to a review, but despite what you’ve heard, my credibility still remains a priority (as of 2/11/04) little as it be. So I did what any young music critic of my general demeanor would’ve done in this situation: popped some muscle relaxors, chugged a rockstar, duct taped my eyelids open and started the tape – Yanni, performing for a live audience at the Acropolis in Greece.
Half hour into the concert, discovering for myself that Yanni, although choosing to go against God’s plan (being cast into the abyss) works even to this day as proprietor to mankind and would make all men equal servants in pursuit of our own greatness, had he only been given the chance. Before Yanni, there was no doubt as to the validity of monotheism, but when recognizing the age-old omnipotent struggle between good and Yanni, one must surely agree that no single force monopolizes the minds of our race, but either would win the mind of men by discrediting the other instead. This affirmed in me, I vegetably enjoyed the hour long flaming elevator ride through the greek aristocratic jubilee, keeping sequestered by tranquilizers and barraging my system with caffeine to to counteract the numbing sounds that Yanni and his henchmen conjured.
Gotta really hand it to the Carmen Maranda looking fiddless who rocked the house old school style best she could, and the guy on the drum kit, who looked an awful lot like Steve, my old roomate (coolest guy ever for real) started having epileptic fits, but never missed even a single beat, and his solo: my Yanni! Even the unholy majesty himself collected a tiny reservoir of tears in appreciation of the unsurpassed talent. That is, until his appreciation turned quickly into jealous rage and in a few swift strokes of his haunted keys, sent the proud percussionist back to the dark cell of his damnation.
The most interesting feature on this concert taping, I found to be a song named after Yanni’s mother (the name far too unholy to mention [or remember]) Who attended this very same concert somewhere in the crappy seat sectio making a brief spotlight cameo appearance, a delightful treat indeed when she’d almost start to cry after the song dedicated had finished, knowing full well that her own seed had sought to musically destroy the decent things of the world. It occured to me then, even Bin-Laden had a mother, who too had a cosmologically twisted sense of pride in her lil’ guy. Something very profoundly felt which I’d never have had I not seen this very concert.
“I think the world would be a far better place if
we could concentrate on our similarities, instead of our differences
All of us have the same capacity, capability,
because we are all the same”
– Yanni (in reference to the toil of man under the yoke of free will)
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