A simple question really

You gotta look sharp
You gotta look sharp
And you gotta have no illusions
Just keep going your way looking over your shoulder - Look Sharp, Joe Jackson

In at least one previous post I have talked about my teenage and off and on continuing affinity for all things Joe Jackson. Well, I was getting the youngest dressed for his annual Christmas picture with his brother and I said that he looked sharp. He asked what it meant to look sharp and I told him it meant handsome and then I started to sing the refrain to the song Look Sharp by Joe Jackson. After I was done with that he had a quizzical expression on his face and, in response to the song, asked "Why, Daddy?"

Why indeed.

I remember watching a special on the Moody Blues on PBS a while ago where they lamented that people looked to them for answers because they were asking questions. Questions that were profound, relevant, and that struck a chord with the people that listened to their music. Such was their lament that they actually wrote a song about it proclaiming that they were just musicians and their spokesman (i.e. lead singer) was just a singer in a rock and roll band.

Statements without foundation. Questions with no answers. Such is life apart from the Genesis of Art Itself.

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