Ian introduced me to rock. He was learning to play guitar and that led him to listen to different things than we were exposed to by our parents. One of the greatest guitarists of Rock and Roll is also one of my favorites: Jimi Hendrix. Here's one of his ballads, "The Wind Cries Mary":
The song's lyrics don't make a lot of sense by themselves, but they don't have to. The music that goes with it is beautiful, cool, amazing, and somehow both simple and complex at once. Jimi Hendrix showed me that there was other music out there than just oldies (even if he died well before my parents ever met), and that was an important step in finding my musical identity.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Music (The Sound of Silence)
When I was in high school, I was a big dork. As a freshman, I played D & D during lunch (and later Magic: The Gathering). Later, I read and collected comic books. Now, those things just make me a nerd, but I also was pretty socially inept. So, it may be unsurprising that I felt like no one understood me. Maybe that's why I got into Simon and Garfunkel, especially the song "The Sound of Silence."
The song is about a depressing present that may lead to an even bleaker future. It also includes subtle parts about how the singer knows something that will help the masses, but they refuse to listen. So to a teen who feels rejected by his peers and has different (and in his mind, "better") hobbies, this kind of fit.
I really liked Simon and Garfunkel, especially during my sophomore year. I remember working on a science paper late one night while listening to one of their albums (on audio tape, which makes me sound so old). It was good stuff.
Except that it wasn't. "The Sound of Silence" is okay and "A Bridge Over Troubled Water" is probably one of their best songs (I think their best one is "7 O'clock News/Silent Night"). But a lot of their songs just aren't very good. "Cecilia," "The Boxer," and "Homeward Bound" are all depressing in different ways and "Feelin' Groovy" is absolute crap.
What's my point to this? Well, I was a teen that listened to crappy music because I felt that no one understood me. If I had been born five years later, I probably would have been into Emo.
The song is about a depressing present that may lead to an even bleaker future. It also includes subtle parts about how the singer knows something that will help the masses, but they refuse to listen. So to a teen who feels rejected by his peers and has different (and in his mind, "better") hobbies, this kind of fit.
I really liked Simon and Garfunkel, especially during my sophomore year. I remember working on a science paper late one night while listening to one of their albums (on audio tape, which makes me sound so old). It was good stuff.
Except that it wasn't. "The Sound of Silence" is okay and "A Bridge Over Troubled Water" is probably one of their best songs (I think their best one is "7 O'clock News/Silent Night"). But a lot of their songs just aren't very good. "Cecilia," "The Boxer," and "Homeward Bound" are all depressing in different ways and "Feelin' Groovy" is absolute crap.
What's my point to this? Well, I was a teen that listened to crappy music because I felt that no one understood me. If I had been born five years later, I probably would have been into Emo.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Music (Rocky Raccoon)
Ah, the Beatles. The band that every other band gets compared to at some point.
With this one, I simply downloaded a bunch of Beatles songs one day and had never heard it before. Unlike a lot of songs that I'll be talking about in this series, I never had the chance to re-discover this song.
It really doesn't have as much to offer as their other stuff. The melody is a bit simplistic, the rhyme scheme is rudimentary, and the main character's name may or may not be a racial slur (although, based on what I know about the Beatles, I'll guess "not"). What this song does have, however, is a great story. The "hero" of the story doesn't get the girl, he doesn't win the fight, and he certainly doesn't get any glory. What he does get is a chance at redemption (or at a "revival," as the song puts it). He goes to his room to nurse his wound and read the Bible. Considering all the drug references in many of the Beatles' songs, one that ends with personal reflection and scripture study is rare.
In the end, the song is fun (if a bit forgettable) with a good moral from a band not known for their good morals.
With this one, I simply downloaded a bunch of Beatles songs one day and had never heard it before. Unlike a lot of songs that I'll be talking about in this series, I never had the chance to re-discover this song.
It really doesn't have as much to offer as their other stuff. The melody is a bit simplistic, the rhyme scheme is rudimentary, and the main character's name may or may not be a racial slur (although, based on what I know about the Beatles, I'll guess "not"). What this song does have, however, is a great story. The "hero" of the story doesn't get the girl, he doesn't win the fight, and he certainly doesn't get any glory. What he does get is a chance at redemption (or at a "revival," as the song puts it). He goes to his room to nurse his wound and read the Bible. Considering all the drug references in many of the Beatles' songs, one that ends with personal reflection and scripture study is rare.
In the end, the song is fun (if a bit forgettable) with a good moral from a band not known for their good morals.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Music (Unchained Melody)
Is there a certain song for you that you've heard before but suddenly takes on new meaning? Maybe circumstances in your life are reflected by what the song is about, maybe you learned what the songwriter originally meant when he wrote it, or maybe you just realized that the song rocks. I want to write a few posts about music, because sometimes, as powerful as they are, words simply aren't enough.
At the restaurant where I work, the background music is a basic mix of Oldies. There are few songs that I haven't heard at some point before, but there are some that it's like hearing them for the first time. Last night I had one of those experiences with "Unchained Melody."*
It really is a beautiful song, but for whatever reason, when I heard of it I remembered it was the theme to the movie Ghost back in the early 90s. I think I only saw about half of it, once, when it was on TV. What I remembered of it was there was a man who was killed and wanted to simply touch his wife but couldn't because he didn't have a body anymore. Luckily, a psychic allowed him to possess her for the evening. As I remember it, the scene was not sexual in any way, merely a husband being able to experience the joy of holding his wife one more time. Whether that was actually how it was or not, that's what I remembered. Suddenly, the song had new meaning: you can hear the longing in the singer's voice, begging for his love to still be there even though he knows she probably isn't. I thought about what it would be like if I couldn't hold Allison anymore, if we were separated like that. I had to focus on work to hold back the emotion.
This morning, I told Allison about it and started crying. The emotion in the song is profound: deep love mixed with powerful sadness. I told her that even the thought of being with her and being able to hold her in my arms was too much (even now, just listening to the song again has me crying like a baby). It was a wonderful moment that we shared and even though it was difficult emotionally, I was glad for it. It also makes me grateful for the Sealing power, so that if we are worthy of our covenants, I won't have to be without her (and with that thought, I can't stop smiling).
Like I said, as powerful as they are, sometimes words aren't enough.
What are songs that mean more than words can alone to you?
*Sorry, for the live version; I couldn't find a version of the studio recoding that I could embed.
At the restaurant where I work, the background music is a basic mix of Oldies. There are few songs that I haven't heard at some point before, but there are some that it's like hearing them for the first time. Last night I had one of those experiences with "Unchained Melody."*
It really is a beautiful song, but for whatever reason, when I heard of it I remembered it was the theme to the movie Ghost back in the early 90s. I think I only saw about half of it, once, when it was on TV. What I remembered of it was there was a man who was killed and wanted to simply touch his wife but couldn't because he didn't have a body anymore. Luckily, a psychic allowed him to possess her for the evening. As I remember it, the scene was not sexual in any way, merely a husband being able to experience the joy of holding his wife one more time. Whether that was actually how it was or not, that's what I remembered. Suddenly, the song had new meaning: you can hear the longing in the singer's voice, begging for his love to still be there even though he knows she probably isn't. I thought about what it would be like if I couldn't hold Allison anymore, if we were separated like that. I had to focus on work to hold back the emotion.
This morning, I told Allison about it and started crying. The emotion in the song is profound: deep love mixed with powerful sadness. I told her that even the thought of being with her and being able to hold her in my arms was too much (even now, just listening to the song again has me crying like a baby). It was a wonderful moment that we shared and even though it was difficult emotionally, I was glad for it. It also makes me grateful for the Sealing power, so that if we are worthy of our covenants, I won't have to be without her (and with that thought, I can't stop smiling).
Like I said, as powerful as they are, sometimes words aren't enough.
What are songs that mean more than words can alone to you?
*Sorry, for the live version; I couldn't find a version of the studio recoding that I could embed.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Rejected Verses from Children's Songs
The Wheels on the Bus
"The politician on the bus goes, 'Vote for me,'
'Vote for me,'
'Vote for me.'
The politician on the bus goes, 'Vote for me,' all through the town."
"The emo kid on the bus goes, 'I am sad,'
'I am sad,'
'I am sad.'
The emo kid on the bus goes, 'I am sad,' all through the town."
"The druggie on the bus goes, 'I need a hit,'
'I need a hit,'
'I need a hit.'
The druggie on the bus goes, 'I need a hit,' all through the town."
"The bipolar man on the bus goes, 'Laugh, laugh, cry,'
'Laugh, laugh, cry,'
'Laugh, laugh, cry.'
The bipolar man on the bus goes, 'Laugh, laugh, cry,' all through the town."
"The psycho on the bus goes, [one continuous scream] all through the town."
If You're Happy and You Know it
"If you're happy and you know it, shoot a gun (bang, bang).
If you're happy and you know it, shoot a gun (bang, bang).
If you're happy and you know it, then your face will surely show it.
If you're happy and you know it, shoot a gun (bang, bang)."
"If you're happy and you know it, insult your friend ('You're dumb!').
If you're happy and you know it, insult your friend ('You're dumb!').
If you're happy and you know it, then your face will surely show it.
If you're happy and you know it, insult your friend ('You're dumb!')."
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmid (final verse)
"John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmid
His name was my name, too.
Whenever we went out,
the people used shout,
'There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmid!'
So I eliminated him."
"The politician on the bus goes, 'Vote for me,'
'Vote for me,'
'Vote for me.'
The politician on the bus goes, 'Vote for me,' all through the town."
"The emo kid on the bus goes, 'I am sad,'
'I am sad,'
'I am sad.'
The emo kid on the bus goes, 'I am sad,' all through the town."
"The druggie on the bus goes, 'I need a hit,'
'I need a hit,'
'I need a hit.'
The druggie on the bus goes, 'I need a hit,' all through the town."
"The bipolar man on the bus goes, 'Laugh, laugh, cry,'
'Laugh, laugh, cry,'
'Laugh, laugh, cry.'
The bipolar man on the bus goes, 'Laugh, laugh, cry,' all through the town."
"The psycho on the bus goes, [one continuous scream] all through the town."
If You're Happy and You Know it
"If you're happy and you know it, shoot a gun (bang, bang).
If you're happy and you know it, shoot a gun (bang, bang).
If you're happy and you know it, then your face will surely show it.
If you're happy and you know it, shoot a gun (bang, bang)."
"If you're happy and you know it, insult your friend ('You're dumb!').
If you're happy and you know it, insult your friend ('You're dumb!').
If you're happy and you know it, then your face will surely show it.
If you're happy and you know it, insult your friend ('You're dumb!')."
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmid (final verse)
"John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmid
His name was my name, too.
Whenever we went out,
the people used shout,
'There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmid!'
So I eliminated him."
Friday, March 4, 2011
Column III
This one ruffled some feathers to the point that the director of Housing on campus responded with a letter to the editor.
Not bad.
Not bad.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
A little bit creepy
Now that Christmas is over, I want you to try something. Take a song that mentions Santa Claus by name and replace Santa with "The Boogeyman." Let's try some on for size:
"He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness' sake." ("Santa Claus is Coming to Town")
Hmm . . . I didn't replace anything on that one. Let's try again.
"Jump in bed and say your prayers 'cause [the Boogeyman] comes tonight." ("Here Comes Santa Claus Right Down Santa Claus Lane")
There we go! In either case, the imagery is slightly disquieting, but it's okay because Santy Claus is good. Sure . . .
"He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness' sake." ("Santa Claus is Coming to Town")
Hmm . . . I didn't replace anything on that one. Let's try again.
"Jump in bed and say your prayers 'cause [the Boogeyman] comes tonight." ("Here Comes Santa Claus Right Down Santa Claus Lane")
There we go! In either case, the imagery is slightly disquieting, but it's okay because Santy Claus is good. Sure . . .
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas to me.
Christmas means different things to everyone, but it also means different things to the same people at different times. This is true for me as well.
Let's start at the beginning. When I was a kid, Christmas was all about family and presents. I remember Dad pulling down the artificial tree from the rafters in the garage and all of the kids helping to put it together. Mom would spend a whole week baking to put together goody plates for us to hand out when we went caroling. I loved waking up early to run to open presents, but the kids had to wait for the parents to get up, of course. Because Santa never came by our house, Mom and Dad would assign each kid to pick out a gift for another kid (I liked that because it helped us to enjoy the act of giving). Overall, I really liked Christmas.
The next stage probably started in high school. I didn't like Christmas a lot in High School. Because I sang in choir from eighth grade to the end of high school, for a solid five years I started singing Christmas songs in late September/early October. That meant that it was harder to get into the Christmas spirit for me. That continued after school when I started working retail, because I would hear the Holiday music all day long and would have to be jolly when all of the customers were jerks. This over-doing of the Holidays had the effect of turning me into one of those people that was offended by someone saying "Happy Holidays" rather than "Merry Christmas." I felt like Santa Claus was a "corporate tool," as I would often say. I just couldn't tolerate the idea that Christmas was anything other than what I felt it should be.
On my mission, I relaxed quite a bit. A lot of it was because we would work all the way up to Christmas (we weren't allowed to do any proselyting on Christmas, which I always felt was for the best) and I think because everyday was about sharing our testimonies, it was okay if one day was less Christ-centered. Or maybe I meant in spite of that . . .
That brings us to today. I accept the fact that other people will celebrate the Holiday in their own way. I read an article recently in the school paper, condemning people for saying "Merry Christmas" before the Holiday (apparently the two weeks before Christmas is called "Advent"). My response was, "Who cares? At least people are being friendly." Oklahoma is very predominately Christian, so there are a lot of people who argue to keep "Christ in Christmas" as we've heard before. Fine, but it's also fine if someone only wants to get ready for Santa to visit.
So that's Christmas to me, past and present. I feel good that Christmas doesn't make me angry anymore, because that just sucks. I'm also interested in what the future will hold and how I'll feel in about, say, ten years.
What's your Christmas like?
Let's start at the beginning. When I was a kid, Christmas was all about family and presents. I remember Dad pulling down the artificial tree from the rafters in the garage and all of the kids helping to put it together. Mom would spend a whole week baking to put together goody plates for us to hand out when we went caroling. I loved waking up early to run to open presents, but the kids had to wait for the parents to get up, of course. Because Santa never came by our house, Mom and Dad would assign each kid to pick out a gift for another kid (I liked that because it helped us to enjoy the act of giving). Overall, I really liked Christmas.
The next stage probably started in high school. I didn't like Christmas a lot in High School. Because I sang in choir from eighth grade to the end of high school, for a solid five years I started singing Christmas songs in late September/early October. That meant that it was harder to get into the Christmas spirit for me. That continued after school when I started working retail, because I would hear the Holiday music all day long and would have to be jolly when all of the customers were jerks. This over-doing of the Holidays had the effect of turning me into one of those people that was offended by someone saying "Happy Holidays" rather than "Merry Christmas." I felt like Santa Claus was a "corporate tool," as I would often say. I just couldn't tolerate the idea that Christmas was anything other than what I felt it should be.
On my mission, I relaxed quite a bit. A lot of it was because we would work all the way up to Christmas (we weren't allowed to do any proselyting on Christmas, which I always felt was for the best) and I think because everyday was about sharing our testimonies, it was okay if one day was less Christ-centered. Or maybe I meant in spite of that . . .
That brings us to today. I accept the fact that other people will celebrate the Holiday in their own way. I read an article recently in the school paper, condemning people for saying "Merry Christmas" before the Holiday (apparently the two weeks before Christmas is called "Advent"). My response was, "Who cares? At least people are being friendly." Oklahoma is very predominately Christian, so there are a lot of people who argue to keep "Christ in Christmas" as we've heard before. Fine, but it's also fine if someone only wants to get ready for Santa to visit.
So that's Christmas to me, past and present. I feel good that Christmas doesn't make me angry anymore, because that just sucks. I'm also interested in what the future will hold and how I'll feel in about, say, ten years.
What's your Christmas like?
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