THE SPLENDID BOHEMIANS PRESENT "DOUBLE TROUBLE" - NO REGRETS: WITH JACKSON BROWNE, LUZ CASAL, DAVID LINDLEY, RUFUS WAINWRIGHT & SARA BAREILLES. DOUBLE DOWN!!

Edit Piaf once famously sang “Je Regrette Rien” (I Regret Nothing), and listening to the following heart wrenching live performances, I’m reminded that anyone claiming that spiritual stance must be in denial - or, crowing in battered defiance in order to buttress themselves against the memory of life’s cavalcade of pain and tortured conscience. For who can sincerely state that they have no regrets? No harsh word you wish you could have retracted?; No unsubstantiated suspicion that poisoned the well of a friendship or a faithful love?; Are you discounting the abuses large and small that have piled up so high that, somehow, you’ve become numb to them?; What about the road not taken…?These songs tell tales about the burden of living under the crushing weight of regret. If you don’t shed a tear listening to them, your fluids need replenishing. The divine Spanish diva, Luz Casal singing Jackson Browne’s “These Days”, accompanied by the writer and his ride or die Sancho Panza, David Lindley on his keening fiddle is like hearing a penitent sinner’s weary confession; and, then there’s the  incomparable Rufus Wainwright, in a duet with Sara Bareilles, delivering her own anthem with a thrilling operatic intimacy. THESE DAYS / LUZ CASAL, JACKSON BROWNE, AND DAVID LINDLEYThe preternaturally wise Jackson Browne was sixteen when he wrote “These Days” for Nico, who intoned it with a teutonic world weariness that spoke volumes. What did he know then about regrets? Certainly, the intervening years have instructed the now 76 year old songsmith in all the permutations of tragedy, yet somehow, he has managed to valiantly soldier on, staying creative, performing, and advocating for humanity.  There is something almost mystical about the voice of Luz Casal, and the delicacy with which she interprets Jackson’s lyrics that transcends her heavily accented pronunciations. The words are sometimes hard to follow - but not the meaning - that’s never lost. Time collapses as the message of this song, originally brought into being by the foreign born Christa Paffgen - and resurrected now, almost 60 years later, by this Goddess, comes full circle to enfold the aging songwriter in the arms of his own mortality. SHE USED TO BE MINE / SARA BAREILLES AND RUFUS WAINWRIGHTSara Bareilles wrote She Used to Be Mine as a show stopper for her Broadway musical, Waitress, and it’s a barn burner. Here, in combination with the musical magus, Rufus Wainwright it morphs into something entirely different from it’s template: it has become a religious act of forgiveness and redemption - an acknowledgment of life’s profound losses, and at the same time an appreciation for what was - a ritual of devotion that celebrates living in all its ecstasy and futility - the duality of darkness and light, love and death. First Rufus sings alone, then Sara… but, when they harmonize the full extent of the love that was lost, and yet remains, lifts us up to the realization of the eternal knowledge that love is never lost. It is a requiem.