A house for Astonishing

There are times and places in this world. These are accepted truths. It's logical, inarguable, self-evident as it were. And occasionally in one of these places, obviously at a time, something happens, something occurs, that at a later date one is able to look back and say; "I was there". Last night in Hollywood at an unsuspecting little bar that goes by the name of Crane's (but would do better to align itself with the much better-named "Dick's Whiskey Tavern" with which it shares a door) there was one of these explosions in time and space. And I was there.

A House For Lions debuted and for the lucky attendees packed into the railway car sized room, we are all witnesses. Undeterred by a broken string midway through his first song Daniel Norman managed to grab a roomful of people and shove them into his pocket, taking them where he chose. After the broken string, a putatively wet-behind-the-ears Mr. Norman bantered a bit and regaled the crowd with stories of subway travel and a gang of oliver twist-like youths, employing a stage presence that the band before him (name:forgotten) could learn much from.

Once he regained 100% musical instrumentation Mr. Norman continued to basically seduce every woman in the room, if not the entire Hollywood corridor, with his blend of early Ryan Adams-esque rock tinged with Brooklyn bar band, shaken with melodies courtesy of The Beatles, and cut with his unabashed southern tones, both in story and his Tom Waits minus the asphalt-vocal chords wail. I honestly believe I saw three separate women fall completely in love with Daniel Norman last night. My kingdom for the sexuality that accompanies deft guitar playing, brilliant lyrics and a fervid voice.

Art, being what it is, can be hard to define, which is what makes it so mystical. It exists somewhere in the ether, just out of reach yet still somehow tangible. What's even more mysterious is the soul of an artist; no matter how hard they may fight an artist is just that. And Daniel Norman was touched by lightning, there is music in him in every way. The man lives musically. This may have been the debutante ball for A House For Lions but the last dance is long from now. As Willie Nelson writes music like breathing, Daniel Norman can't help but spit out song and rhythm. As long as he may have fought the battle, succumbing to the need to let out the songs inside was a foregone conclusion. And we are all the better for the battle lost.