I listen to music all the time. All the time. You name the genre (except country), and I listen to it. I love it. The more the better. I've been to dozens upon dozens of concerts -- from Billy Idol to Aerosmith, to the Boston Pops to Gov't Mule, to Blue Man Group to B.B. King, to Dave Weckl and Bobby McFerrin. And those are only a few of the artists I've seen more than twice.
This is a blog post which I've been passively constructing for about two years. The only reason I know it's taken this long is because I looked at the "Get Information" date for the text file in which I had originally scribbled a note. It's taken me this long to have finally collected enough songs on my usual "random" iTunes shuffle which hit me hard to finally post about it.
Music is very important to me. That sounds trite. I'm more than a casual fan (hey, I played the oboe for 15 years), but am not snobby enough to say I know more than a lot of people. I try to challenge myself to listen to something else than the nauseatingly repetitive mass market radio playlist selections. So anyway, getting to the point, I started taking note when a particular song hit me hard.
Whenever I'm alone I listen to music, usually very loudly. The volume itself isn't important (except for certain pieces), but music is best heard at the volume in which it's created. Most people listen at "appropriate volume." In other words, if you're listening to blues then you shouldn't just be able to hear the bass guitar, you should be listening to it loudly enough to feel it in your chest. If you're listening to classical, then the trombones and timpani should physically resonate in your skull as if you were at the concert hall. It's a completely different experience. Try it. You'll see. I admit, I probably take it up a few notches on the volume, but it's powerful. Music is a viable, real, breathing art form. It's as real and powerful as literature. I go on binges of reading and will devour book after book after book, but I just can't re-read my favorites too often. Music is another story -- if you'll pardon the pun. The more intimately involved I become with a piece of music, the more I love it.
Since I've recently surrendered my membership in the Man Club [see post below], I might as well get around to finally posting a very un-manly admission. There are songs that can, given the right circumstances, make my eyes water. I'm not going to say that these songs make me outright cry, because there's nothing in this world that's an absolute. Okay ... I take that back for the bagpipes playing "Amazing Grace." But for every other song here, that's the deal.
[Having re-read this blog post and listened to the clips I've posted for you to hear, I'm feeling really stupid about posting this. But, as you can see, I've posted it anyway. These songs are meant to be heard in their entirety. The clips can't even begin to elicit their intended response from you with only a few seconds of audio. These songs are on my "Feeling the Blues" playlist in iTunes ... when I'm feeling down and want to embrace it, these are the songs to play. Y'know? These clips are equivalent to reading a few paragraphs of a great novel. For a number of reasons, including copyright infringement and bandwidth for both our sakes, I can't upload the complete songs. If you like anything you've heard please let me know and I'll point you in the right direction.]
The descriptions precede the audio clips to follow . . . and to hear the clips do not click on the "play" button in the center of the screen. Click on the "play" button at the bottom of the video viewer.
The 3:00 minute mark of Fugue in G Minor by Bach (BWV 578) of the Stokowski transcriptions (I prefer the London Symphony Orchestra version). Those soaring violins and raging trombones! This is a great example of a classical piece which should be played loudly. The original "non-transcribed" piece for organ is beautiful, but Leopold took it to the next level. Fugue in G Minor is my favorite song of all time, bar none.
Right around the 2:20 mark of Chopin's 24 Preludes, Op. 28: No. 17 in A flat major (the timing taken for granted of the particular pianist's tempo). It's the epitome of the mazurka, written for the plight of my Ukrainian ancestors, all those struggles, the deaths and sadness from centuries of persecution and conquest... all expressed in a piano composition. Absolutely beautiful. Aside from Amazing Grace, this one is the song that makes me tear up instantly.
Thirty seconds into Gift of Thistle from the Braveheart soundtrack. Instant bawling. This one is automatic. If you're not moved by that song, you're just not human.
When Van Morrison's guitar kicks in at about 2:05 on Don't Look Back by Johnny Lee Hooker. So sad. So, so, so sad, and incredibly musically emotive. In case you don't know, this song was Johnny's way of saying goodbye, just one last time, to all of us blues fans. And we knew it. Not a dry eye was to be found in the blues world while listening to this song. You have to hear the whole song to really grasp the concept, but just trust me on this one. It's gorgeous, touching, and will forever be a centerpiece in any blues fan's library. Van Morrison is playing his guitar and expressing his love for Johnny through his music. Johnny's tired and resigned vocals only underscore this farewell salute. It's paradoxically difficult and easy. It's perfect blues. That's important what I just said. It's perfect blues. Perfect. Johnny was a god, he paid his dues (a term blues fans understand damn well), had the right to sing 'em, and I wish him well. Thank you, Johnny. Thank you very much. Godspeed.
Ry Cooder whenever he lays down something slippery and with echo, as epitomized in this untitled instrumental. Can you see him in your mind, playing with a smile but a look of sadness in his eyes? A slide guitar in Ry's hands is a truly beautiful thing. It speaks to my soul. It's emotive. He pours his heart into it. He is a quiet master of the guitar world ... but ask any accomplished artist that's ever slipped the broken neck of a beer bottle onto their finger and cranked up their amp to play the blues --- they're channeling Ry.
As soon as Eric Clapton shuts his eyes and leans into power chords while Billy Preston pounds away like hell on his Hammond organ at the six minute mark of River of Tears, then rips into a soaring solo when he takes back the lead. I don't know why, but this makes me tear up in an instant. Steve Gadd, a god amongst drummers, storming with emphasis, hits like a hurricane in my chest. It makes me tear up every single time, and I dunno why. Look this song up in your musical dictionary under "Power Blues." This is the clip that will play. It makes you clench your fists, play air guitar, and awkwardly whale away on the imaginary drumset at the same time. If you play it loudly enough (highly recommended), it sounds quite different. Seriously. Play it at a comfortable volume, then play it again at the loudest volume your stereo can muster. Two very different songs. Really. Try it. It's magical.
Big leap of faith for all things masculine here, but I'm in it this far . . . oddly, the 1:20ish mark of Little Star by Stina Nordenstam -- I think it's her ultra-feminine voice juxtaposed with the alto sax solo which follows right after this clip, and the extremely powerful bass line. I don't know why it hits me so hard, but it does. Say what you want about Stina and the song itself, but it punches me right in my chest. Nevermind that it's said to be about her son dying. Ugh. That probably is a big factor as to why it hits me like it does.
The sparse guitar of Mike McCready and the pining voice of Eddie toward the end of Yellow Ledbetter by Pearl Jam. I heard this on the radio way back when, and had to immediately hunt for it at a record store. Back in the day it was only available on a European import 3-track CD. Still got it. I think that Yellow Ledbetter is Pearl Jam's greatest recording. Ever. It's just pure musical expression. Absolutely pure. Rumor has it that they recorded this song as a jam, in one take. Unrehearsed, impromptu, and heartfelt. Good lord almighty. Give me a guitar. I want to do that. I want to make music off the cuff with a bunch of my friends that sounds that great. Goddman those are some talented guys. Nobody's who's feeling blue can listen to that song and sit upright.
The first milliseconds of the opening chords of Love You 'Till The End by The Pogues, and pretty much the whole song. This clip is toward the middle, but you get the point. I think it's the harmony between the legendary Debsey Wykes and Spider Stacy, with the gentle piano notes punctuating the vast importance of what's being sung. You either get this or you don't. I do, and hope you do too. It's the punk version of saying "I love you." With harmony. And it's Irish. If you're with me at a bar at 2:00 AM and this comes on the jukebox, I'm leaving. I want to spare you the embarrassment of being with the wussy-weepy guy.
For a reason I simply cannot explain, 3:33 onward of I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For by U2 off the Rattle and Hum album. It's just sheer joy. Sheer, unadulterated joy. New Voices of Freedom channeling God Himself. I'm not a big "God guy," but I'll take the spirit of this song and run with it. I applaud and celebrate people that can embrace happiness for anything or any cause. I swear on the life of my kids, I've never made it through this song without tearing up while singing along. I'm a horrible singer, but I belt this one out at the top of my lungs.
And for the love of all things holy, I cannot get through the last minute and 45 seconds of O Giusto Cielo, il dolce suono, from Act 2 of Lucia di Lammermoor without even pretending not to get teary. When Inva hits that high C#, I just burst into tears. I hope Edgardo reunited with Lucia in the afterlife. Probably not. Bitch. He deserved better.
Let's not even talk about the pipes of Amazing Grace from the Braveheart soundtrack. By the inharmonious one minute mark I'm a slight mess, and by the lone pipe at 2:50 ... I'm a complete weeping wreck. But strangely (I have no idea why), I'm often insanely laughing too. I just don't get it. I think about all the people I miss. I miss my dad, I miss my mom, I miss my uncle Mike, I miss my Nana, I miss my grandpa Don, I miss my Papa, and I fear my own soon passing and the pain it will cause my family. Amazing Grace is the Irish boy's penultimate sorrow song. Maybe it's only because having been born and raised in the Boston area, but while this song is playing there has never been a dry eye to be seen.
Speaking of Amazing Grace, let's take this to the next level and end on a high note. This version doesn't make me cry at all, but it's the last song you'll ever hear in my presence if you happen to attend my funeral. My wife and kids will tell you without a moment's hesitation that I have only one wish upon my death. It's a lock solid guarantee. My boys are to play Amazing Grace by the Dropkick Murphys off the "Gang's All Here" CD. It's to be played at an inappropriately loud volume. A really really inappropriately volume. A shockingly loud volume. A volume that makes your eardrums hurt. A volume that makes women cringe and children clutch onto their parents for comfort. If you can't hear the extremely faint singing by the Dropkicks in the background, it's not loud enough. I want the priest to wince in abject horror when the guitars kick in .... and I want my sons to be laughing with glee in the pew, tears of sheer joy -- not sadness -- in their eyes. The more people that are looking around frantically and wondering what the hell is going on, the better. How can ANYBODY be sad from the 0:47 mark onward? Life is short. Live it like you mean it or get out of the way. What better song with which to go out of life than this?
Whatever music you dig, play it louder than you think you should. Then turn it up a bit. Please, for me, and for you.
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2 comments:
I think what you’re trying to convey was said in two sentences. You said music speaks to your soul and yes, there is spirit in a song. Anyone who says different has either lost their soul, their spirit or both. Sometimes it’s in how they compose and others it’s not the notes or lyrics but how they chose to interpret the music. Bagpipes are an amazing instrument, I can’t explain it. When it’s done right with feeling, it evokes a mess of emotions. My SIL is a music teacher and plays the clarinet beautifully. I’ve heard clarinets being played before, but when Marie plays, you forget to breathe. That’s talent. That’s beauty and it plays through her music. She’s got a beautiful soul and it shows.
I try not to judge people by the music they choose to listen. It provokes an emotion that we often have tendencies to keep hidden and secret, and it’s probably why it hits us so strongly. It also brings back memories we thought were long and forgotten in the file of our brain. Sometimes it’s a good memory, sometimes bad. “Runaway Train” by Soul Asylum is supposed to be a very depressing song; but see, I never listened or looked up the lyrics. It would ruin it for me. The song was played on the radio during a memorable Summer of 1991 or '92 (can't remember) and it reminds me of great friendship and fun and the time when for just 3 months I decided to just let all the worries go and not have a care in the world. I gave myself 3 months to do that and then I would go back to taking things seriously. I was unemployed, unattached, a college loan to repay, on the edge of homelessness (okay, sleeping on a friend’s couch could be considered homeless) and my parents disowned me 5 years before. I had no safety net. So, I let it all go. I figure what’s the worse that could happen. I had nothing to lose and it was the most freeing experience I ever had. If you’ve never done that before, I can’t explain it - the fear and the freedom… but the song reminds me of those feelings. So, anybody who tells me that song is depressing, I’ll agree with them, nod my head until they walk away, then I’ll put a big smile back on my face. Come to think of it now, “I’m free” by Soup Dragons was played very loudly then too.
Now, if I wanted to wallow in my situation back then, I would listen to R.E.M’s “Everybody hurts” but when he got to the words, “When you’re on your own..” I turn it off and I'd get pissed.
Got off on a tangent there. Music is like your best friend. Your secret confidant who says to you, “I know what you’re feeling and I’ve been there too.” It’s a comfort knowing, feeling and listening to someone ‘speak’ what you’re experiencing in the depths of your own heart and soul. And in a world where boys don’t cry Don, it’s probably the only avenue in which to acknowledge that you’re allowed to be human too. The Amazing Grace song to be played at your funeral? Far out dude! Leave them laughing - remember me not with tears but with a smile and why not give a priest heart palpitations while you’re at it. That’s what’s called fun.
I like this quote: Life is short. Live it like you mean it or get out of the way. It would make a great bumper sticker.
That's my 10 cents worth. I'd give you my 2 cents worth version, but it's Saturday and I'm too lazy to edit.
oops forgot to mention my fav soundtracks: Out of Africa, Gladiator, Immortal Beloved and of course Gross Point Blank. LOL
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