Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Ramblings on Music


Music is this thing. 
It's ever 
growing, 
changing, 
moving, 
falling, 
healing,
hurting, 
BEING, 
giving, 
feeling, 
searching, 
staying. 
Sometimes it gets better, and sometimes it gets worse. 
It changes through time with different sounds and words and intentions and moods and rhythms and responses. 
It dances all around our souls and our ears, going from one place to the next sometimes without a bit of transition. 
Sometimes it falls down, and sometimes we push it down. 
Sometimes it hurts our hearts when we feel it deep, but sometimes that very same thing can bring healing. 
Music simply IS. 
It gives us more than we know -- more than we could ever know, because it's deep and it has emotions of its own. 
Sometimes it leaves us, and we are lonely and broken, but sometimes it comes to us, cradles us in its century-spanning arms, and stays. 
Music is human. 
It is one of the most human experiences we can have. 
It is in us, around us, infiltrating our daily lives. 
Music is us. 

The Day the Music Died

I've decided to do something a little different today. I love music, but I also love poetry. So here is a poem about music that I've been working on about something that means a lot to me. 

The Day We Howled and Gold was Gone
I was late for work because there was a documentary on the oldies station about the day the music died, and because I was crying.
Because it wasn't just a plane crash. It was one of the most symbolically pivotal moments in America's history. It was the quintessential "power of a moment" moment.
Three kids, just trying to make a living amid the idealism of the 1950's.
When the newspapers were the real news
when the women wore aprons all day and loved to bake cakes and never aspired to be greater than what everyone expected them to be
when children were rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed and walking to school arm in arm
when sex was censored on television and every married room had two twin beds with matching floral prints
when the magazines were filled with smiling people in ads and smiling celebrities and smiling men drinking aged Scotch
when lovers met in grade school and got married right out of high school
when we listened to soft jazz and even the Everly Brothers
when we danced with each other in felt skirts and saddle shoes in gymnasiums
when the sunrise was golden every morning, and the nights were never dark enough for anything bad to happen
when everything was closed on Sundays except for the churches, and so we rested
when the mind was an innocent thing and we never had to worry.
And then these three kids were playing a show,
something a little edgy,
and they needed to do some laundry
and they were bantering how boys banter and laughing and singing
and everything was golden, except for the snow.
The snow was so white and so fierce that the pilot couldn't see,
and they weren't flying but a few minutes when they crashed--
their bodies tossed carelessly into the snow.
Their wives cried and their babies died and their lovers wept and their mothers fainted and America looked up into the sky and wondered at the lack of gold in the morning
and then we heard the news.
And we wept with the lovers.
The music of innocence that had so epitomized America had crashed with that plane.
The music became, not gradually, but suddenly, something strong and fighting and passionate and sexual and searching hard for something in the night.
Suddenly, it wasn't the first half of the twentieth century, it was the second half, and the days of aprons and separate beds were gone.
America experienced a shift, unknowingly.
We unfolded our hands from their quiet place in our laps and we put them on each other's naked bodies and on bottles of cheap booze and into the air like fists, protesting for our freedom.
Our freedom to be equal, our freedom to love, our freedom to have peace; our freedom to rebel.
The day the music died, we found a new music inside of ourselves, and it was the same fierce, passionate music that the storm was playing the night they crashed.
And I have to cry, because we lost our innocence.
And then we lost our passion.
We've rebelled against everything we can think to rebel against, and we've stood up for every cause we've stumbled across, and so now we sing pop songs and don't know how to dance and sell our souls to the internet, yelling in the streets that we only live once.
The day the music died, we mourned. We grieved. We sobbed as a nation, together, united under God and under loss. We felt, because music had taught us how.
It had taught us how to cry when we felt ourselves losing our childhood carelessness.
It taught us how to yell into the sky in the rain when we hated God for putting us in this cold, careless, shattered universe.
It taught us how to laugh with our hearts, our backs against outdated carped, humored by the ironies of this life.
It taught us how to leak love by the buckets, to give even the shirts on our backs and not expect recompense, to dance in the streets by lamplight, and to sit on our front porches and just.be.still.
And then the music died, and here we are left with autotuned bullshit that teaches us about greed and rape and murder and conformity and complacency and exclusion and an unstoppable fast pace that mocks the truly wise.
The piano keys, both the black and the white, are streaked with blood; the artists are dragged from their instruments like criminals.

And it's no wonder that all the girls who sing the blues are going to smile and walk away.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Musical Worms

It's pretty run-of-the-mill to get a song stuck in your head; you feel as though it's on repeat in your mind and you can't get it out. Sometimes it's an entire song, or sometimes it's just a line or a small section of the song, and it slowly begins to drive you crazy.

There is actually scientific explanation of this! Those little bits of songs are called "earworms," and you can read all about them here. Reportedly over 91% of people surveyed experience this at least monthly... That's a lot of music!

My problem is a bit more odd, though, as I don't get portions of songs, or even whole songs stuck in my head; my earworms are much longer (more like ear-snakes, I guess). I get playlists stuck in my head. I haven't self-evaluated enough yet to find trends or themes between these song combinations, but I have a feeling they most likely relate to my mood in some way or another.

So I thought I would share with you my current ear-snake. Feel free to psycho-analyze!

The Monkees - As We Go Along
This is the music of a peaceful revolution. From the long-ish prelude to the poetic words, I'm captivated by this song. It's the sound of the sun setting over a lake.



Pure Prairie League - Aime
This song is being a teenager and being an adult in one package, and I'm not really sure why. There's nothing decisive or powerful about it, but it makes me feel hopeful in my hopelessness.



The Dixie Chicks - You Were Mine
Despite the fact that I am 21, single, and childless, as soon as the chorus plays I'm belting it as emotionally as a recently-divorced middle-aged woman with two kids and a broken heart. Sing on, Dixie Chicks. Sing on.




Dan Seals - Everything that Glitters is Not Gold
There is something about this song that makes me feel as though I grew up listening to it, regardless of the fact that I heard it for the first time last year.



Taylor Swift - Best Day
Tears, tears, and wait -- what's that? Oh. More tears. Taylor knows me, and she knows how to pull my heartstrings with her guitar strings.




Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Torn and Unfaithful

The idea of an unfaithful partner in a relationship is sad, but there is something about a hidden unfaithfulness that makes it a little less sad. Honesty adds an entirely new layer of sorrow, because the faithful partner is then aware of the cheating, and remains in the relationship out of love and commitment. And then, of course, putting a scenario like this to music heightens the tragedy to another level. Here are two songs that I think do this very powerfully.


The first is Mary Macgreor's "Torn Between Two Lovers" released and recorded in 1976. This is the song of a woman confessing to her partner (possibly husband) that "there's been another man that I've needed and I've loved." She describes an empty space that only her illicit paramour can fill, but does not want to let go of her partner. She loves them both, but in different ways. She is apologetic, and understands if this man can't stay with her, but her voice searches for understanding. "All the things I ever said, I swear they still are true." Just because she has taken an additional lover does not mean she does not still love the man she is with.


Thirty years later, and we see another Unfaithful song (literally) hit the charts. Rihanna's strong vocals contrast with Mary's soft, sweet voice, making this song powerfully emotional. "He's more than a man, and this is more than love; the reason that the sky is blue," she sings, but despite this, she is taking another lover. She realizes that it's a mistake, and she realizes that her partner knows about it, and that "it kills him inside." Just as in Mary's song, she loves them both, but in different ways and for different reasons.

These songs are impacting for both musical and lyrical reasons, but also because they are sung by females. I could easily list ten songs from different genres that involve a man being unfaithful to his female partner, but songs with the roles reversed are much more difficult to find. These songs are beautiful in their sorrow because they don't address the physical aspects of the relationships, but the emotional aspects. The torn, broken voices of these two women restore my belief in the idea of a "soul mate," however idealistic that may be. Why would they be feeling this remorseful if they were created to be with more than one person? 

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Thinking Out Loud About Forever and Ever





Everyone loves a good love song, at least every once in a while, and they aren't difficult to find. These days, though, with so many songs about one night stands and meaningless hook-ups, real love songs are more challenging to find. 



There's something about "forever love" that provides a perfect inspiration for any romantic song, whether it be from 30 years ago, or currently gracing the Top 40. Although Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" is more poetic, Randy Travis' "Forever and Ever, Amen" communicates the same concept of being in love as long as time lasts.






"They say time takes it's toll on the body, makes a young girl's brown hair turn grey. Well, honey, I don't care, I ain't in love with your hair. And if it all fell out, well I'd love you anyway. They say time can play tricks on the memory; make people forget things they knew... I'm gonna love you forever, forever and ever, amen."
His love for her is unconditional, it is not based on looks or outward appearances, but is instead a love that will never die. Even when they are old, when their youth has faded, their love will remain the same and be theirs to have and hold forever.




"When your legs don't work like they used to before, and I can't sweep you off of your feet... And darling, I will be loving you until we're 70... When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades, I know you will still love me the same... Your soul could never grow old... Your smile's forever in my mind and memory."
Here, also, we see love transcending time and hormonal romance, and extending into the grey-haired, feeble, forgetful years.




The idea of a love that is enduring is rare and beautiful, and songs like these give hope to the masses that love like that exists in places other than Disney movies. These songs are structurally similar, with verses, a refrain, and repeating lines ("maybe we found love right where we are" and "forever and ever, amen"), but contain identical themes of everlasting love that stirs the heart despite the day in age.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

College Kids...

Prepare yourselves for this musically inspired rant about... college. First, watch this video. If you're in college, or have ever been in college, I think you'll find at least a few of these things to be true.


I have to vehemently admit that this pinpoints my sentiments exactly as of recent. I miss being home. I miss not having to worry about where I'm going to live or paying for where I live or balancing the three jobs it takes to pay for where I live. ("I"m poor, I'm starving, I'm flat broke, I've got no cash to spend.") As graduation approaches, student debt is increasingly weighing on my mind ("80 grand later...") I miss high school, where the social calender didn't involve even one boring, repetitive, same-thing-every-weekend frat party ("The party scene is kinda mean, I think it's sick and twisted"). 

Honestly, college has been a disappointment in a lot of categories. When my best friend from high school left for college in Tennessee a year before I graduated, I'd get letters from her describing everything incredible about college. I had high hopes. After I'd been offered four full rides, my dad chose Westminster. ("What my parents told me is what I did.") I wanted him to choose; I trusted his instincts and his perceptions. I was prepared to take a journey of self discovery, to learn who I was and delve into linguistics and literature. 

Ironically, college has been a place where I've lost myself. I don't always remember who I am, and the tedious busywork of classes has cost me my passion and creativity ("I find out that all that I had learned is that you should show up to take your finals and your midterms"). I find myself constantly fighting the monotony, now having to force my naturally optimistic self to look on the bright side. I feel as though I'm spending my time, money, and energy on something that, at least to date, hasn't had much return. 

I'm not saying that there's been nothing beneficial; I've made some good friends, I've had some great professors, and I've learn to be entirely self-sustaining. As socially "normal" as it is to graduate high school, go to college, get a degree, and then get a job for the rest of your life, I've come to the conclusion that college isn't for me. I'm excited to put it behind me and join this world which is thriving with life and opportunity. 

"Do what will make you happy; do what you feel is right. But only one thing matters, learn how to live your life."



Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Smashing Mash-Ups


I thought I'd post something simple this week, something light-hearted and cheery like this fantastic weather we are experiencing. One thing that makes me very happy is mash-ups, really well-done mash ups. So here's to my favorites...

EVOLUTION OF DANCE

I'll start with this one because it actually makes me "lol" every time I watch it. I will admit, though, I had one of those "good grief I'm getting old!" moments when searching this video. I was scrolling through YouTube looking for the right one, and I knew this was the right guy (note: orange Crush pop T-shirt), but I thought there was no way it could have been uploaded in 2006. That's almost ten years ago! Regardless, I love it. It makes me laugh, and it will make you laugh, too. Share it with older generations; they'll appreciate the decade-spanning humor!


MILEY CYRUS

I remember when my sister and I got our first Hannah Montana CD. It was a pretty exciting day. We put on our dance leotards and jammed out all day (read: all month). Miley is still my go-to for a good jam, and this mash-up of her transformation is really spectacular. I'd love to hear it updated in a year!


EVOLUTION OF MUSIC

Even more extensive than the Evolution of Dance, this musical compilation dates back to the 11th Century. Featuring the members of the duo Superfruit, the group Pentatonix blends these extremely diverse songs flawlessly. Their range of vocals are impressive at the least, and this makes me want to try and find Gregorian Chant on iTunes to download... 


TAYLOR SWIFT

Anthem Lights is one of my favorite mash-up groups (check out their K-Love Fan Awards Mash-Up). I've been a fan of Taylor Swift since I was 14 and my best friend played me "Teardrops on My Guitar" from the audio recording on her Razor phone. Every time I sang it, I obsessively replaced "Drew" with the name of the 17-year-old I was then in love with (who, of course, was in love with a different girl that he raved about to me). It was a rough time for junior-high-me, and Taylor was there every step of the way. I wept over "Fifteen" when I turned 15, and locked myself in my dorm room with nothing but "Last Kiss" when I thought I'd messed up the best relationship I'd ever had. Despite my nostalgic rant there, this song will make you smile -- especially my fellow T Swift fans out there. 


AS LONG AS YOU LOVE ME

I'm sure it says something about who you are (or perhaps just how old you are) depending on which "As Long as You Love Me" popped into your head when you read this: Backstreet Boys or Justin Bieber? I was a fairly typical Backstreet fan girl growing up, and I don't mind Justin Bieber, but this Michael Henry and Justin Robinett medley, I would suggest, certainly one-ups the originals. (Here. Just put this playlist on replay.)


LET IT GO/LET HER GO

Although Elsa does not "only need the sun when it starts to snow," Passenger and Frozen (the Disney film) were bound to come to a crossroads at some point. Sam Tsui does a brilliant job weaving these two together. Although it is not "frozen" outside anymore, you can still appreciate this melodic collaboration of two songs that are sure to empower you.