Turn It Up
One of the most wonderful and also difficult things about music is how closely it can be associated with certain people, times, and places.
I started my blog with a Grocery Store Song.
This is another, of a slightly different genre: perhaps I could call it the Department Store Song.
OH HELL YES.
Version v. Version (v. Version v. Version) RETURNS with a track that -- just like "The Tracks Of My Tears" -- is just, essentially, such an amazingly good song that it can sustain the interpretations of many different artists.
When I tell this story I never feel that people believe me, but deep down inside I really think this actually happened:
When I was in third grade, I had this grand epiphany that writers could just SAY THINGS. And that writing could be just that, the art of just saying things. "She had green eyes." Etc.
What is art?
But here's what I think:
It's what is beautiful and meaningful and universal and yet also very specific.
you find yourself on an inner tube on a series of man-made cascades and you have flipped over several times and lost and found the same helpful stick several times and you are paddling furiously to put yourself back in the current but not moving a single inch and you have just seen a dog in a shirt in a kayak and you just feel the urge to just open your mouth and just SING wha
Since everyone (including myself) seems to be interested in songs that remind us to Do Crazy Things because Who Knows What Could Happen (this one is probably my personal favorite of the genre, because the image of grabbing somebody sexy and telling them 'hey!' never fails to produce a quiet internal chuckle, which is a pleasant feeling)
In continuing my recent efforts to turn outward, I have found myself attracted to the Story Song.
(you know, those with a defined setting and characters and a plot arc and [usually] an AWESOME narrator)
(Given the subject matter of this song and given that my parents just left from a weekend visit to my town, this might be taken as some kind of commentary on our relationship. But FEAR NOT, PARENTS. It is not.)
Here's why my parents shouldn't worry: I like this song because it doesn't reflect on my life in the slightest.
You Cry And Moan And Say It Will Work Out But Honey Child I've Got My Doubts: Sentimental Reminiscence
I wrote a thesis.
I don't talk about it much.
It was a collection of short stories told from the alternating points of view of two women living in a town in Central Washington called Wenatchee.
you just want to feel alive and thankful for the existence of good slow jams.
The song: John Legend, "Live It Up"; 2004
I am finally at an age and state of mental clarity wherein I feel like I am not living my life by blindly stumbling around in some kind of very large, very dark, very cluttered room.