When A Tribute To Heroes aired in September of 2001. The world was reeling from chaos and ache few had seen in our lifetimes. The evening of music came as much needed relief because besides looking at each other, we look to the artists of the world to help translate our pain into songs. It was a great night for music, but one performance stood out. With no fancy introduction, Bruce Springsteen kicked off festivities by saying "This is a prayer for our fallen brothers and sisters" and proceeded to perform a then unreleased song, "My City of Ruins", that immediately connected and acted as a band aid for a wound so deep we weren't ever sure it would heal. That's the power of a transformative song. On the broadcast later that evening, U2, Billy Joel, Dave Matthews, Bon Jovi and Sting serenaded us with well known songs that provided solace. But it was Bruce's haunting acoustic based performance that stayed with me and many. It was a risk, but one that worked marvelously. I had been fortunate enough to see the song the previous December when he played a charity show in Asbury Park, NJ, but this acoustic rendering brought it to its core. As I watched his 2002-03 tour in support of The Rising, "My City of Ruins" was a nightly highlight because people connected with it. They remembered it from the broadcast and the power of its prayer-like lyrics comforted many when little else could. Since that performance the world has seen its fair share of tragedies where musicians have stepped up to offer a helping hand, including Hurricane Katrina and most recently the Haiti charity telethon from this past January. When the Haiti relief show aired, I felt disconnected. It was a well intentioned and well performed show, but something was lacking. There were too many cover versions from my liking, almost as if some of the artists performing secretly admitted that their catalogs are thin, compared to those who have come before. With the Nashville floods, I must admit to not seeing something larger being done for the community. It seems to be an issue within their community with only those who live there stepping up to the plate. This past weekend, I sat and watched GAC's Music City Keep Playin' - A Benefit for Flood Relief. If the flooding had occurred in New York or Los Angeles, you can bet there would have been multiple benefits occurring. As I watched the show, I loved seeing Keith Urban perform "Help" by the Beatles and "Better Days". Kellie Pickler looked and sounded radiant, Brad Paisley put his money where his mouth was by donating $100,000 of his own money and Sheryl Crow (who debuted a new tune) was one of the few artists with ties to rock n' roll to appear. But it was the finale that was downright unworldly when Will Hoge and his band took the stage to perform "Washed By The Water".
Hoge is no newcomer to the industry, but despite his magnetic stage performance and soul-searching records, many are still unaware who he is. But there he stood, front and center with an acoustic around his neck bringing the proceedings to a rousing conclusion. The song was written in the wake of Katrina's aftermath in September 2005 where a live recording was uploaded to Hoge's site for a free download. However, Hoge held onto the song and didn't release it until October 2007 when he released his rousing masterpiece, Draw the Curtains, my top record of 2007 and one of my five favorite of the decade. Like a thunderbolt, Hoge's performance riveted the crowd to their feet and healed them like a preacher evoking the word of God. You didn't have to be religious to be stirred by this performance, it was pulled from the depths of his heart and we sat up took notice and felt like he was embodied by the spirit of Sam Cooke. There are few songs as good as "Washed By The Water", let alone top-to-bottom records as enthralling as Draw the Curtains. I've watched Hoge for the last five years. He has delivered some of the most blistering live performances I've ever seen. I can count the number of shows I've seen on one hand where an artist came out and proceeded to blow my mind with me never having heard a note of their music. I'm not talking about giving a breath taking performance that makes you appreciate artistry, but one that shifts your life focus; one that brings pain, love and experience into perspective. Hoge has done this time and time again.
This wasn't about grandstanding or hoping his next week Soundscan sales would see a bump, this was about soul. In fact, Hoge isn't a household name and it would have been safer for him to cover a classic, but he delivered more than a heart rendering moment but one that came from within. Hoge evokes feeling and sentiments the way a genuine artist does. He wasn't doing this for financial gain; he was doing it because it's the right thing to do. The best part of it all is that Hoge didn't cover "Hallelujah" or a song from the past because he couldn't find the words. This was an original song he composed. He pulled these lyrics from within his core, delivered it with fortitude and in the process secured everyone's consciousness by striking that emotive chord within us. Watching Hoge and his band break down the chorus was shimmering; "Been washed by the water, the water can't wash us away". The people rose from their seats, clapped their hands and raised their voices to the sky. After two hours, it was the moment where the music allowed us to truly sense other people's pain and loss. We've all experienced despondency in our lives, but it's rare to find someone to encapsulate those feelings in a song. The way the voices lifted, the clapping heightened, the organ swelled and the sensation of the entire crowd like a communal prayer gathering around this gospel tinged hymn; it all came together for a moment that was as good as anything I've watched on television in over a decade. Nashville (and the entire music industry) may be filled with bigger stars than Will Hoge but few are as good and after Sunday night, the world knows why.
Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter
The water can't wash us away.
Now I hear people talkin',
Say I should have up and gone.
But I ain't got nothing but this place,
To call my home.
We'll put it back together,
With our own two hands.
Ain't nobody gonna turn us around.
