Saturday, October 01, 2005

Life Music

Sound Guy: "That was good....what do you call it?"
Drummer: ........."I Am Sparticus".

This is a bit of dialogue from That Thing You Do, a movie directed by Tom Hanks about a band whose wheels fall apart after scoring a one hit wonder. The drummer who just played his "I Am Sparticus" out of frustration, is in the now empty sound room. Despite the bands demise, he still had a passion for his craft. He simply had a passion for music. This is what I love about good music. It permits your soul to submit to emotions you feel from your heart.

Of course my definition of "good" music is subjective. I have been through some doozey crazes in musical flavor. Take for example my Steve Winwood depressive period in college. Man oh man, I thought that was some good music. It was good at the time-unless you were my roommates. Letting me listening to that was akin to giving whiskey to a drunk. Not beneficial. This plays on the simple logic that depressive music will not heal the depressive soul. I guess after the 93rd unwilling time listening to these collectively depressive songs, George and Bennys Uncle finally hit the wall and hid the "offensive" CD out of desperation. I appreciate that bold move of Tough Love. To this day I will not listen to the long-haired crooner. Oh, I went through Winwood Withdrawls at the time, and was pretty mad. Almost as mad as when they put pepper and Tobasco in my Skoal (another stupid habit I had acquired at the time).

Getting back to my original point of music, G and I were having a goofy conversation on what songs I would sing to Benny. I couldn't think of any except "Margaritaville". I was like a deer in the headlights. I wasn't firing on all cylinders with that easy question, and threw that stupid answer back to her. Of course when I asked her the same question, she triumphed in this contest mentioning Mary Had A Little Lamb among some great Godly songs. I gotta get with the program.

Music is such a trigger of emotion, I have spent a few minutes trying to weave important themes/times in my life that seem to be linked by the musical thread. Primarily I need to address Bruce Springsteen. In college, I loved it when Bennys Uncle would announce the next impending Bruce Cruise. It is no suprise that everyone involved in cruising around to Hungry Heart, The River, and all his other songs are still tight after all these years. It was a very bonding experience-with the exception of that night at Lake Hefner. For those not in the "know"-there were no drugs, alcohol, or anything like that. Just a bunch of stupid college buddies showing flashes of craziness.

Other noteables:

Singing with a happy heart from the church songbook in our storeroom/closet downstairs after I was baptized.
The singers at our wedding, even though I don't remember a thing-except background vocals-while watching G go down the aisle.
The CD Bennys Uncle made, that had exerpts from Shawshank Redemption. It helps me remember Zach & perspective.
The drummer at Jantsens funeral. One of the most powerful examples of musical emotion I have ever witnessed.
Listening to Otis Redding while walking the midnight surf at Cozumel. Solitary reflection on life.
Becky Kelley singing "Redeemer" at Easter services in 2004. Moved to tears. The best live song I have ever heard. God was present.
Bob Marley presiding over many years at the apres-ski Steamboat hottub.
Jimmy Buffett singing his kid-oriented songs. I also like Creed's "Lullaby". I'll be singing those to Benny.
Listening to John Denver. Growing up this propelled my dreams of CO. Leaving CO for STL, his music made me cry twice before hitting the state line. I hated the fact he died when we moved to Denver. Always wanted to see him at Red Rocks.
When I first heard DC Talk's "In The Light". Moved me to tears while working a youth retreat in the mountains.
Listening to The Big Chill soundtrack during a mountain thunderstorm, while camping outside of Salida.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

For those not in the "know": Just a bunch of stupid college buddies showing flashes of craziness.
Hey, we weren't totally naked. We were wearing Chuck Taylors. It ain't like were going on TV tearing up pictures of the Pope.