if i could...

There isn't much I would change about my life, given the chance. However, there is one thing I missed that I wish I hadn't: the greatest music man has ever made.

Don't get me wrong, today's instant availability of unique sounds from each of hundreds of genres makes the life of a music-lover fabulously convenient; it does not, however, provide the raw, anti-corporate spirit of meaningful entertainment that fans enjoyed in the late 60s and early 70s. A live show had the potential to be a life-changing commodity. Now, it's a money-whoring business plan that, when flawlessly executed, gives its guests an overly-scripted, often pre-recorded imitation of talent - with pyro, of course.

I regret the fact that I cannot begin to fathom the phenomenon that was Elton John during his greatest years. Aided only by the actual friction of his endlessly-talented fingers against ivory, he could somehow pack a house - though I wonder how anyone would fit as I imagine his presence alone could fill every square inch of even the largest of rooms. His engaging, energetic performances must have left stunned every town he played; I'm in awe myself of only recorded shows - no atmosphere and merely historical reference can't come close to touching the feeling of being there, in front of quite possibly the most memorable stage presence the time had ever known, as he punched ferociously the keys which assemble timeless classics like "Daniel" and "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting." To have been a part of a performance that ultimately led to the first "diamond" certified album in history - the Greatest Hits, spanning 1969-1974 - is something I'll never know. Which artist/group today could accurately claim the potential to chart a top 40 every year for 26 years?

There are plenty more wants of mine in this category: Simon and Garfunkel's "The Boxer," anything from James Taylor's 1976 Greatest Hits album, and Meat Loaf's "Heaven Can Wait" are among my most intense desires to hear live. Only I don't want to hear the 2007 concept; I want the real thing, stripped of its accumulated confidence and full of virginity. It can never be the same, and it's the saddest damn truth I know.

The music of my generation is overwhelmingly orchestrated and lacking in pure talent; until this is untrue, I will forever remain envious of those whose lives' soundtracks came before the fall of the single most passionate form of self-expression.