"tangles of guitar, knots of singing, threads of beat and thump make a rope fit for hauling the heavy machinery of your day"
"I have seen fear and convenienceI have never glimpsed a romance"
"tangles of guitar, knots of singing, threads of beat and thump make a rope fit for hauling the heavy machinery of your day"
"I have seen fear and convenienceI have never glimpsed a romance"
Ando esperandoEsperando tantoPor um momento de graçaCoisa que passa?(Ou que ficaMas sóPorque não sabe onde ir)Andei procurando um mar de areiaPro meu corpo pousarQuando dei por mim, madrugada jáQuando dei por mim, madrugada já
"Bia spends a few years sailing around the Atlantic and Mediterranean, learning more about nature, literature, languages, music and politics than she would in any school. In 1995, she decides she won’t be anything else but a musician, and starts going professional. She is living in France and so she sings in French as well as in her mother tongue, Portuguese, or Spanish that she had learned as a child."
Deric, your sporadic music blog posts are always a pleasant surprise. You do an amazing job of stripping away the layers of formality and expressing a feeling that the music inspires in you without ego. It's raw, and really adds insight to music that I might not listen to on paper. I feel it too, and one of my criteria for a characteristic of what I consider to be good art is conveying a feeling or an emotion.
Interesting point about the music-color relationship. I know I certainly associate different musical chords or tones with color. However, when I talk about the color of music, I guess I think more of the traditional definition of Color or Timbre.
A good explanation of musical Color / Timbre can be found here:
Timbre, the Color of Music.
Basically, Color / Timbre describes all of the aspects of a musical sound that do not have anything to do with the sound's pitch, loudness, or length.
My favorite things to do in music is when I've completely learned a song inside and out and I get to play around with the color of the piece, adding in crescendos of brightness and decrescendos into sweeter darker sounds. This can be done conjunction with actual crescendos to accent or in opposition to them. That's the difference between technically and mechanically playing a piece and playing with feeling. That is where the soul is captured and expressed through the music. It is rare that most people even hear the difference, let alone be moved by it, but when another person really gets it and shares in that moment in space and time, that exact sound and feeling and place that is being experienced for the first time and will never be experienced again... that's one of the best feelings in the world as an artist.
I don't remember the last time I felt that.
Sometimes I'll seriously just play one guitar lick over and over and over and over again exploring every aspect of musical color that I can.
The synesthesia thing sounds cool, it sounds like basically a strong association between sound and color (that said, John Mayer, good musician that he is, is kindof a big blow-hard so I wouldn't be surprised if he was embellishing in order to seem cool and mysterious to get chicks, which I wouldn't necessarily hold against him).
I think I refer to that as 'sound-space' or the head-space that it puts you in. I don't know if I really have a definition for that.
If I were to describe the sound-space that See the Enemy creates for me I guess it would be mellow at first but then you are thrown just a little off kilter when they switch from 4/4 time in the beginning to 7/8 as they go into the verse (someone can feel free to correct me if that's wrong). It's playful, and the bass line doesn't change that much so it leaves you antsy and thought-provoked. The off-beat rhythm and pace of the lyrics threaten to just leave the song behind, but even when it sounds like they aren't, they are still in time and come back to realign with the bass.
If something could be be chill, chaotic, and playful all at the same time, then that would be this song.
Saturday, September 12, 2009 2:17:00 PM PDT
__________________________________________________________________DEATH AND TACOS
Waiting in line at a taco stand for my number to be called
I started talking to a six-year-old kid kicking his little foot against
A curb and waiting for his dad to come out of the bathroom.
And he said, “Why do you cough so much?”
And I said, “Because I have cancer.”
And he said, “Bummer.”
And I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “Does it hurt?”
And I said, “Only when I breathe.”
And he said, “Why don’t you hold your breath?”
And I puffed out my cheeks like Lois
Let him see it and held it for as long as I could
Before exploding into a hacking eruption of
Stupid sounds and saliva.
And he laughed.
And I coughed and laughed.
And he said, “Feel better?”
And I said, “A bit.”
And I showed him how much better with my
Thumb and index finger. And pointed at a green thread
of mucous that had dribbled out onto my chin
He said, “Gross.” And wiping it off
I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “My granddaddy had cancer before he died on the hospital.”
And I said, “You mean in the hospital?”
And he said, “Yeah on the hospital.”
And I said, “Oh, yeah?”
And he said, “He used to give me candy all of the times I ever saw him.”
And I said, “Sorry kid, I don’t have any candy.”
And, deflated, he said, “Are you gonna die on the hospital?”
And I said, “You mean in the hospital?”
And he said, “Yea, are you gonna die on the hospital?”
And I said, “Probably.”
And he said, “OK.”
And, upon giving that gracious consent, the boy’s dad came out and
The boy said, “Well, bye!” And I said, “See ya.”
And he ran off.
And, for a while, between the two of us,
Dying became so very ordinary, like candy or tacos or semantics,
And death itself suddenly just this obnoxious third-wheel
A pitiful nuisance with nothing better to do with his time
Than to tag along with me and this six-year-old kid.
And I sat smiling in the sun and imagining death at the moment,
A sad sack of lonely-self slumped somewhere in the distance,
As I waited for my number to come up.