The Sublime Nature of Dark Music (Music P.3)

Funny how life works out for us sometimes.

I remember the heat of last summer, the late nights out on the patio with the company of a few close friends after long days at work.  The smell of the cedars in the back yard mixed with hunts of bug spray and beer. The sounds of laughter and dancing the night away to Eric Prydz without shame. Summer romances we’re as abundant as the rain showers, it seemed like both happened at the same frequency. I felt I had hit another point in my life. For the first time I can remember I had no idea how the following year would play out. So many radical changes, but where would they lead?

I take stock on the last 12 months of my life and relish in the fact it so unpredictable. I don’t regret a second of anything that happened this year, the good and the bad. I’m not sure what happened to me, if I changed into something different, or if I stopped trying to be someone different. I’ve lost a lot of friends this year, but I think I’ve gained more overall by the most unexpected people accepting me for who I am.

As a result I find my music tastes shifting significantly. I stopped listening to rap about 9 years ago because it got way to commercial. I think the song about Nike Air Force 1′s drove me over the edge – combined with my oldest friend moving far, far away -  I tuned out completely. However, I’ve gotten right back into it. It all started by listening to Heavy J’s extensive Wu-Tang collection, music I hadnt heard in over 10 years – also adding a bit of R&B i’d otherwise never listen too. The quality of the lyrics and the emotion in the delivery makes it an entirely moving experience. One song in particular is striking, and was made shortly after I tuned out.

The imagery is so vicersal and vivid. The content is shocking, but looking past the rough unpolished exterior there is a true depth that many artists seldem reach. The song gives me shivers everytime I hear it. Literally, every time.  It’s so sublime and haunting, like the the lingering touches of ghost-like fingers over the back of your neck.

-E

Karaoke Night (Music P.2)

Creativity, predicatively, is unpredictable. I was lying in bed, i-Tunes blaring some of my signature bad techno music classical symphonies, trying to cook up something good for the blog. Again… trying to channel some of that creativity I so didn’t end up writing some dribble about bags of peanuts on airplanes.

When Inspiration hit me….

…We’ll, sorta…

That disreputable hoodlum named Mac came with reinforcements to drag me away to a Karaoke show on the other side of town. I have been known to occasionally sing the “world’s worst” tribute to “Don’t Fear the Reaper” on Rockband, I figured I’d at the least show up to prove I can take it as well as I can dish it.

As we proceeded towards our destination, the surrounding proceeded to increase in shadiness. Slight urban decay, and not giving a fuck about it, characters the scenery of Snowdon. Little snippets of t 1900′s, 50′s, and 70′s architecture add character to the Subways, Wendy’s, and other neon-glowing markers that constitute urban Montreal. The smell of spent gas and Spring  – retreating snow,  leaving the “gifts” of winter in the dirt – saturates the air as we pull into mall the “karaoke bar” was in.

Like most adventures with Mac, Cognac, Crazy 8, it wasn’t exactly what I expected…

the Karaoke wasn’t even in a bar.

It was a discount movie theater which doubled as a Karaoke Bar on Weds nights. “Cover” for the event was 2.75, snacks at $1 each, and all the booze you could sneak in under your jacket. I sat down on one of the many sticky, movie theater seats, and prepared to hate the entire night, the “DJ” prepared the next song for one of the regulars (to my disappointment, not the guy I was hoping to see sing that night, the infamous “Love Machine”). I also took time to prepare myself for the assault on eardrums.  I was, however, quickly sucked into the sublime performance. It was like some sort of casting call for the Island of Misfit Toys. Blind-deaf-mutes, high school cheerleaders, short construction workers, even an elderly woman who was pushed on stage in a wheel chair. From Sir Elton John’s signature pop songs to Grease tributes,  each delivered an excellent cover of their favorite song, then at the end of the show united to sing the finale – I think it was Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In – to which  just my awkward group of friends the entire audience applauded.

This event set me in a cheerful mood, not only because it was one of the things I love – a good story – but also was a fundamental tribute to one of the best parts of music.

It unites people.

No one on that stage seemed to have anything in common except one thing – a perfect lack of shame and a passion for music

Music makes us feel something – a connection to the artist, and by proxy, the rest of the audience. It’s the powerful unspoken social contract:

to be sober and solemn during songs of pain, like Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit”.

to laugh and dance awkwardly to Eric Prydz late at night on the patio with your best friends.

Everyone has their best moment in their life, replaying in their heads to the perfect music.

What moment is that for you?

-E

Departed (Music P.1)

Goods news

I plan to spend the next few posts writing about music, most likely my favourite and most respected art form after writing,

Bad news

but today time is precious so I’ll have  to keep it short.

I was listening to Apologize, the song by One Republic (I know you like it, c’mon), and another interpretation of the lyric dawned on me.  It reminds me of mourning – for the deaths  of all sorts of things; people, animals, friendships, even romantic relationships. The specific emotional layer of mourning is the anger that takes over you when you dare ask yourself – is this truly, unquestionably,  the end? All of mourning eventually leads to this emotion – Anger and sadness, anger and wraith, even anger and retribution – and therefore all feelings in mourning are derivative of this single, most basic of feeling.

Apologize

Anger over dreams that will never come to fruition / Realizing something outside of your  control is destroying the chance to achieve your goals.

Anger over problems left unresolved / Never getting the chance to hear them say “I love you” one last time and being intensely angry about it.

Anger over the death of meaningful relationships / The first time something, anything, broke your heart – and resenting it for doing so.

Take a moment and remember each of those little deaths that have occurred along your personal yellow-brick-road.

Now think about how much stronger you are now by virtue of surviving them.

-E

Confessions & The Closet

When I started this blog, I made honesty of the utmost importance. Words are just words unless they are put into action, and I feel that I betray my intentions by living a lie. What better day to confess then a rainy day in April, when spring overturns the deadly embrace of winter and nature gets a new chance to thrive again, just like I wish to have with all of you.

I am gay, and I am in love with man named “Mac”

We’ve known each other for years, and we’ve both lived lies with other women. My previous post was merely testing the water, so to speak. I want everyone to accept me, and Mac for who and what we are. What are we? Aside from Hated by God, Republicans and Don Cherry? We are two fools in love. Mac recently drew me a picture,  illustrating out forbidden romance, which I would like to share with you.

What a joyful day. I feel so relieved.

-E