Duncan raised his right hand high and joined in with the rhythm of the live performance. His actions were uncontrollable, filled with ecstasy and passion.
His joyful expression radiated genuine ease and delight. It was as if he had come alive once more, and even his body seemed eager to rise from the chair and fully embrace the fiery energy that had ignited within him.
He was thoroughly enjoying himself, not because the song was exceptionally good, but because he craved that moment of relaxation and catharsis.
After a monotonous day of repetitive work, Duncan had nearly forgotten who he was, how he embarked on his current path, and where he should be headed next.
The vibrant and carefree high school boy he used to be, with his spiky hair, ripped jeans, and a motorcycle, seemed like a distant memory now.
The day-to-day mechanical routine had rendered his life predictable, with each day blending into the next, as if someone had copied and pasted the same day 365 times. His mind had gone into hibernation, temporarily forgetting how to think.
What he needed was not much—no grand escape from life or a miraculous solution to happiness.
He simply yearned for a bit of relaxation, a momentary release from the monotonous pattern of life, even if it meant just three minutes.
Just like this moment.
Duncan tapped his foot along with the rhythm, his gaze locked onto Ronan's eyes. In that radiant halo, he could see his former self: a young man with a fearless spirit, a love for adventure, and boundless laughter echoing through the sandy streets of their town.
"I just want to play my music," it was as simple as that.
Not far behind Duncan, Sam noticed Duncan's intention to stand up, and a wistful smile crossed his face. It wasn't because Duncan's movements obstructed Sam's view of the stage or that he could no longer see it clearly. It was Duncan's actions themselves that brought that smile.
An innocent heart.
That was the phrase that came to Sam's mind. It was about stripping away the trappings and baggage of adulthood and revealing the sincerity and simplicity of a child once more. That was it.
Duncan wasn't alone.
At this moment, all over forty patrons in the bar had their eyes fixed on the stage, and more than half of them were tapping along with the drumbeat.
Whether it was a small movement of fingertips or the soles of their feet, they were fully engaged and immersed in the performance. The relaxed atmosphere spread effortlessly.
Sam found this fascinating.
"What exactly is good music?"
Different people had varying opinions on this matter. Music, like painting and novels, was a form of artistic expression. Each person had a unique understanding of art, and consequently, their judgment of what was good or bad varied. Personal preference was deeply personal, and there was no definitive answer.
After all, art wasn't a matter of mathematics.
However, truly moving music had one common factor—it could resonate with its audience.
In the end, all forms of art were humans' interpretations of emotions, the world, and themselves. Works that could strike a chord of resonance within their audience were considered "excellent."
So, what was the difference between last night's performance and tonight's?
The song remained the same, a pop-rock style with simple chords and straightforward lyrics.
Catchy as it was, it wasn't easy to leave a lasting impression or deeply touch the audience. In the fiercely competitive music industry, it could easily get lost.
But the difference lay in the interpretation. Ronan's clean and clear voice genuinely conveyed the song's simplicity and purity, showcasing the heartfelt passion behind the lyrics.
It infused the song with an emotion like a clear spring, truly evoking happiness and joy from the heart, stirring the audience's emotions.
The icing on the cake was Ronan's singing skills, whether it was the powerful high notes or the effortless rhythm. His tone and intonation were exceptional. These solid foundational skills enriched the emotional expression of the performance.
The only limitation was the "Noon" bar's small stage, which didn't allow the band to fully unleash their potential. Sam regretted that he couldn't assess one crucial aspect of live performances—stage presence.
Some singers had top-notch skills and talent but lacked charm on stage, while others, with minor flaws in their performance, could captivate the audience with their stage presence.
The "Noon" bar's stage wasn't large enough to discern Ronan's stage presence, and Sam's own expertise was limited. Even if the stage were more spacious, he couldn't definitively determine if Ronan possessed stage presence.
Nevertheless, Sam was confident of one thing: if the bar patrons enjoyed it, that was enough.
Last night, the One Day Kings Band's performance didn't impress Sam. However, from the last song "Don't Stop Believing" last night to tonight's performance, Sam could sense a transformation in the band's demeanor. It wasn't so much the entire band but the lead singer.
It was as if... a realization had suddenly dawned upon them. The band's overall control and interpretation of the performance had been elevated by several notches.
What could be the reason behind this change?
Perhaps the looming threat of standing on the precipice had indeed stimulated their potential, leading to a transformation from quantity to quality. Or maybe it was simply a return to normalcy tonight.
However, from Sam's perspective, he leaned more toward the former explanation. The overall texture of the performance was indeed different, and the latter seemed less convincing. Did this mean that his actions and judgment from last night were in error?
Sam wasn't a professional; he had simply based his judgment on his experience. When the thought crossed his mind, he didn't delve further into it. Instead, he chuckled lightly, joined the bar's patrons, and began to relish the performance.