So, I’m driving today with the windows half open. I’d gotten tired of Buster’s mixes and found the Under the Stars album – a collection of Broadway tunes done by Renee Fleming and Bryn Terfel.
Track number 6 – Stars, from Les Miz. Freaking magnificent.
At a long stoplight I’ve got it blasting pretty good, and the woman in the next car beeps me. I lower the music, assuming it’s rudely intruding on her, but she’s hollering something, so finally I shut it down completely and give give her the raised eyebrows.
“That music! That’s from Les Miz, right? That’s Stars, right?”
“Yeah,” I yell back, lowering my window a bit more.
“Who is that singing, I never heard that guy before – that’s not the cast album.”
“No,” I smile, relishing this. “It’s Bryn Terfel!”
“Whaaa?”
“Bryn Terfel!”
“Never heard of him!”
“He’s an opera guy!”
“The bastard can sing, can’t he?”
I cracked up and as the light turned I yelled out the name of the album. I don’t know if she heard me.
Yes. He can sing. Indeed.
Related: A musical occasion of sin.