As posted here earlier, last Thursday night was Open Mic Night at The Black Sheep coffee cafe and we went to watch and listen as the Mall Diva and her lifelong friend and musical partner, Casii, made their public debut. It was an interesting evening sponsored by the city of South St. Paul as an activity for the youth. The performances were all pretty good, but what I noticed most was the differences in attitude between the performers.

The first singer was a young man who is likely too young to remember Corey Hart, yet he was wearing sunglasses at night all the same. He was a beefy guy with a delicate voice reminiscent of Dan Haseltine of Jars of Clay. He did a couple of original compositions and some covers but all of the song selections were of disaffected angst that spoke of a misery too deep for anyone who hasn’t, say, been audited. Even his take on Green Day’s “I Hope You Had the Time of Your Life” had irony dripping off of it … and right into my chai latte.

Another performer was a young woman who read her poetry from a spiral-bound notebook (I couldn’t tell if it had hearts on it, but I suspect not). She stood in a way that announced she had “issues” even before reading her work that featured lines about brains splattered on windows and hamsters committing suicide. The girl prefaced some of her reading by saying her poems use a lot of symbolism and she hoped we “got it.” Not a problem, as it was about as subtle as a manhole cover in a salami sandwich.

The young folks were good, and I know that it sounds as if I’m mocking them. Well, I am mocking them I guess, but it’s more in recognition of my own artistic self-absorption when I was their age (I’d rather listen to Vogon poetry without sedation than go back and read my old, old stuff). Perhaps it’s because, while we may suffer a lot of pain when we’re young, we don’t have a lot of years of experience to put that pain in perspective.

Or maybe it’s just what is fashionable now.

When the Diva and Casii took their turn, however, it was a completely different attitude — and I say that completely acknowledging my proud-parent bias. They did two high-spirited and funny original songs (including, if you can believe it, a highly symbolic one about a hamster) plus their own take on the old hymn, “It Is Well With My Soul.” They were warm and upbeat, engaging with the audience even though they did without the microphone. With their voices, and in a relatively small room, they didn’t need a mic. In fact, they were nearly able to drown out the “whacka-whacka-whacka” of the espresso machine behind the counter. As with the other performers, they wanted the audience to feel what they felt; the difference is that they were having fun.

I can think of a number of reasons why that might be, but I think the main one is “the perspicacity of hope”.

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