1159 sixties
Standing on the side of the stage, LeVine casually placed his guitar in the corner, groped up and down in his pocket, found the cigarette box, and pulled out a cigarette. However, it was squeezed and scattered in his pocket, falling sporadically. Some tobacco leaves and the cigarette became wrinkled. But he didn't care.
He held it in his mouth casually, leaned his back against the wall, rubbed his hair irritably, and was thinking about where to stay tonight..
Those guys who can be considered friends or not have all stayed overnight, and they all seem to be completely offended. Should I hook up with a woman like last night, and then go to her house to sleep all night? Otherwise, you'd better try your luck at the professor's house. They are always generous and kind. Seeing his desolate appearance, he shouldn't have the heart to refuse..
For a moment, I thought about tomorrow's performance again. I don't know if Pioneer Village is willing to give him a performance opportunity, but the bar owner is a stupid jazz lover and doesn't seem to be interested in folk songs; or he might try it in another bar. Give it a try, maybe he can try performing another piece.
“fire? "A voice of inquiry came to my ears..
He didn't turn his head, but shook his head slightly to express his refusal, bit his cigarette holder lightly, "I'm about to go on stage..”
“What, are you worried about Pappi getting blamed? "Papi, the name of the bar owner.
He couldn't help but laugh, "No." He paused for a moment and explained lightly, "It's just because of the performance." Although this was an ordinary performance, he tried to remain professional during the performance. This was his insistence..
Suddenly thinking of something, he turned his head and looked at the bartender beside him, "I haven't found a place to stay tonight. How about I come to your house for a night?" They were not familiar with them, but they gave it a try anyway. No loss. “I’m a very quiet sleeper and I’m not picky, a couch and a blanket will do, assuming, you have heat in your home.”
The bartender didn't say anything, just stood there in a daze, as if he didn't expect him to make such a request. They didn't even exchange a few words..
He didn't mind, biting the cigarette holder again, as if he was tasting the faint bitterness in the tobacco leaves, then stuffed the cigarette into his shirt pocket, curled his lips, "I guess your house doesn't have heating." He complained. , then picked up the guitar and walked quickly onto the stage, leaving the bartender standing there with confusion on his face, as if he didn't know what was going on..
In the bar, the noise of whispering was still buzzing. Some people were enjoying dinner, some were drinking beer, and some were lighting cigarettes. No one seemed to notice his appearance..
But it doesn't matter.
Sitting down skillfully, he habitually started to tune the strings, listening to the sound of the strings, feeling the strength of his fingertips, and then he started playing. Tonight he decided to sing "Hang me, oh, hang me"”.
Perhaps, this was the most appropriate track, not only because his partner Mickey had just died, by suicide, that idiot; but because it suited the mood of the evening, which, it seemed, was to go to the gallows Doesn't seem like a bad thing.
Humming softly, he gradually immersed himself in his own world, "It's so pitiful." Is this talking about Mickey or himself? Or...every poor guy who performs a ballad? Or are they just those idiots carrying rifles onto the battlefield? The smile at the corner of his mouth rose involuntarily, helplessly and mockingly..
After the song was sung, there was sparse applause from the audience, and a few whistles. It was lonely and empty, and a large amount of loneliness surged deep in his heart. He dragged his ankles and slowly fell. He took a deep breath. , hiding all his emotions tightly, and said half-jokingly, "You may have heard this song before..”
Without stopping, he quickly packed up his things and left the last words, "If a song is never new, but it is never outdated, then it is a ballad.".”
There was a chuckle from the audience, and he couldn't help but raise the corner of his mouth, raised his right hand to briefly signal, and then left the stage with his guitar..
Today's performance is over. In the kerosene lamp bar, the performance time of a song is extremely precious, because this is the most popular bar in Greenwich Village. The folk singers who are eager to perform on stage are like sardines migrating in winter. generally.
A middle-aged man with a scruffy beard walked towards him, with a satisfied smile on his face, "Wonderful, very wonderful." This was Ethan Coen, he remembered. "Joel and I just confirmed, All the filming is over, the first scene was perfect, God, we can't believe it, tonight's show was so amazing.”
Ethan patted his arm, "Now, we can call it a day. But, Stanley just said that you are going to perform a short performance to thank the fans and moviegoers present? Is that so? If so, That would be great, it would be a treat for all of us.”
Ethan was smiling and couldn't hide his excitement, "Joel was just saying that the time for a song is really too short. Maybe we should film a concert. Ha." But then, he noticed his The words received no response, "What do you think? Or, you feel too tired now. If so, it doesn't matter. I believe everyone will understand..”
“No, it's okay. I just wanted to smoke a cigarette, but...smoking can wait." He raised his eyebrows, and a smile appeared in his eyes, but the smile was fleeting, with a touch of self-deprecating bitterness and The sarcasm flowed out, "Who can refuse an invitation to perform at the Kerosene Lamp Bar now? At least I can't. I'll go on stage again now.”
Ethan stood there, slightly dazed..
He ignored Ethan, turned around, walked onto the stage again, and sat down in front of the microphone, "Hey, I'm back again.”
He took a long breath and rubbed his hair again. The messy hair was completely out of control, but the intersecting light vaguely outlined the carefreeness and laziness between his eyebrows, and the slightest trace of irritability was not visible. , finally, with a deep breath, it disappeared completely and turned into a slight smile at the corner of the mouth..
“I thought, maybe tonight, we can spend a few more songs together." He hugged the guitar again and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts..
I don’t know why, but I always think of Mickey tonight. He doesn’t know why Mickey chose to end his life, and he doesn’t know why Mickey chose to give up. Or maybe he knows, but he just doesn’t want to face it..
The 1960s, the long 1960s, the dark and humid years, the bitter and confused time, the depressing and bumpy life, just like drowning and suffocation. When will they break through the water and break out of the 1960s? However, it is only 1961 now, and there is no end in sight at all. It is just a blur..
He couldn't help but be a little stunned. How long can this dream last?？
“But, it’s no longer about hanging and hanging, let’s do something else.” His words caused low laughter to resound in the bar, and then he stopped talking and began to lightly trace the strings with his fingertips. The irregular chords gradually found orderly patterns in the chaos, and finally converged into a gurgling stream, traveling through the mist..
The brisk string music is like a sika deer happily running and jumping in the jungle and mountain streams. Little by little, the morning fog is pushed aside to find the quiet lake in the deep mountains and dense forests. A thin ray of sunlight falls on the calm lake like skylight. Above, magically, the flowers are blooming, the colors are colorful, the mist is surging, and it is as quiet and moving as a paradise..
This is a strange melody that I have never heard before. Gradually, the whole bar became quiet, and all eyes fell on that figure motionlessly. The gurgling flow of time seemed to be tinkling in the ears, but It has completely lost its meaning. Ten thousand years is just a blink of an eye..
The calm eyes, the calm expression, the calm aura, everything seems to have slowed down, and even the noise of breathing has disappeared in the breeze; but the faint bitterness and sadness are still there. The light and shadow gradually spread out bit by bit, and people couldn't help but start to explore the stories and scars deep in those eyes..
A touch of sadness, like the blue sky in March, with only a few clouds sparsely and lazily crossing the sky.
“Forget it, this skinny-love only lasted a year; to take it with a pinch of salt, we were not above it. Oh my god, my god, my god, my god, staring blankly at the pool of blood and the disguises everywhere.”
The drooped eyelids covered the thrilling look in those eyes; the hoarse voice revealed the turbulent undercurrent deep in the soul. Then, the fingertips began to strum the strings quickly, and the melody became more and more brisk and the rhythm became more and more surging, but But my heart became more and more precipitated, slowly sinking into the crystal clear lake..
bitingly cold.
Saying "Oh God (my)", I hold back and sigh, but I am losing ground in this battle of love, and I am helpless..
At this moment, the whole world quieted down. Listen carefully to the sound of broken love, slight but heavy. It fell apart in an instant, just like the world collapsed..
Different from the unrestrained and bitter vicissitudes of "Hang Me, Oh, Hang Me", the freshness, nature and lightness of this piece are performed between the melody, but the sadness and melancholy revealed behind it are sung with ease. in it, slowly seeping out.
The sky in the 1960s was gray, everything was forbearing, everything was unrestrained, everything was dark, everything was chaotic, they were running wantonly, trying to chase the ethereal... Freedom and dreams, as well as justice and conscience, but after chasing after each other, I lost my way, and then I stood there, at a loss..
In order to protect the fragility deep inside, they arm themselves with unruliness and unrulyness, pretending that they don’t care about everything, and it seems that they will no longer be hurt..
“Oh my god, my god, my god, my god..”
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