It’s
been said that music is the universal language. History has proven that it is
timeless in its impact on the human spirit – from the likes of Friedrich
Nietzsche who philosophized, “Without music life would be a mistake.” – to
former President Ronald Reagan who proclaimed, “Life is one grand, sweet song,
so start the music.” And start the music human society did. Ever since, in the
history of music and in the history of mankind, life and music have been
simpatico. Our lives have defined music, and music has defined our lives. Music
does indeed form the soundtrack of our lives.
Famed
contemporary musical artist, Paul Simon, wisely suggested, “Music is forever;
music should grow and mature with you, following you right on up until you
die.” Our taste in music does mature and change as we mature and change. As
babies, lullabies soothed us. As children, silly songs that were interactive
and involved play and fun were our musical preferences. We enjoyed S’Mores
around a campfire while singing “Cumbaya, My Lord”. We had mischievous fun
while standing in line at the summer camp dining hall singing, “Great green
gobs of grimy, greasy gopher guts, and here we stand waiting to be fed.” We played with music by singing and dancing
the Hoki Poki, the Mexican Hat Dance, and stomping and clapping along to “If
You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands.” I was probably about 12 years
old before I truly noticed the effect music had on the human psyche, and that I
could enjoy it without fun dances and activities to accompany it. I remember
hearing Perry Como singing “Catch a Falling Star and Put it in Your Pocket and
Save it for a Rainy Day.” I immediately took notice that the song made me feel
happy and was even inspirational to my young mind. That was one of the first
moments in my life when music defined me, and I defined the music. It was the
beginning of the soundtrack that would continue, from that moment on, to
accompany my life.
However,
as we grew into teenagers and young men and women, we hadn’t put aside all
musical fun and games. We discovered that we still liked to play with music. We
discovered mystery in music, and it became a fun challenge to try to solve the
mystery. For instance, has anyone ever solved the mystery of what Mick Jagger
is saying in some of his lyrics in “Jumping Jack Flash”? Speak English, Mick!
In her song, “Respect”, what precisely is Aretha Franklin saying in the lyric
immediately following “R-E-S-P-E-C-T”?
E-N-U-N-C-I-A-T-E, Aretha! One would have to Google the lyrics to solve
the mystery. Perhaps it’s more fun just to guess.
And
then, of course, there was always the ultimate fun musical mystery challenge
for teens and Generation X’ers of detecting the alleged subliminal or hidden
message in Backmasking. Sometimes referred to as Backward Masking, Backmasking
is a technique in which a message is recorded backwards on a track that’s meant
to be played forward. The technique was initially popularized in 1966 by the
Beatles who allegedly, either intentionally or unintentionally, used backward
vocals on their album, Revolver.
About ten years after the murderous rampage of Charles Manson and his “family”,
it was reported, founded or unfounded, that evil propaganda messages were
detected in some Beatle songs. Manson perpetuated the mystery and controversy
by proclaiming that the Beatles White
Album contained metaphorical messages that would “set up things for
revolution – the battle of Armageddon.” Manson even lent his own interpretation
to the Beatle lyrics, “Blackbird singing in the dead of night / Take these broken
wings and then learn to fly / All your life you were waiting for this moment to
arise.” Manson believed them to mean that the black man was going to arise and
overthrow the white man. He absurdly suggested that the Beatles were trying to
initiate a race war. Supposedly evil messages were also detected in the music
of Black Oak Arkansas, Electric Light Orchestra, Led Zeppelin, and Queen. Such
intriguing mystery and fun there was in trying to hear the alleged satanic
messages in the music of the
aforementioned musicians by playing the music backwards – a task accomplished
by setting the speed of the turntable in a neutral position and then manually
spinning it backwards at a speed that made the vocalist’s voice and the hidden
message discernable. Indeed, even when we were no longer children, we hadn’t
given up childish ways. – We still “played” with music.
As
we progress through our lives, and as we reflect on past moments in our lives,
most of us discover that music both accompanied and defined the most momentous
occasions. In my personal reflections, I recall, as a new teenage driver,
driving too fast and singing along as The Angels’ “My Boyfriend’s Back” blasted
from the car radio. I flipped my car. The car was damaged, but I was physically
unscathed. The irony lies in the fact that the otherwise normal silence that typically
follows the shock and confusion from such an accident was broken by The Angels
melodiously and rhythmically warning, “…..and there’s gonna be trouble.” Music – the soundtrack of our lives!
When
I was going through a particularly devastating divorce, I was quite the drama
queen and experienced a great deal of self pity in the initial stages. It was
not uncommon for neighbors to hear the husky, whiskey-throated vocals of Janis
Joplin lamenting “Take another piece of my heart, baby.” Ah yes - music – the soundtrack of our lives!
As
a young divorced woman and single mother of both a baby and a toddler –
struggling with a full time teaching position while simultaneously attempting
to complete my Master’s degree, I often felt overwhelmed. Helen Reddy’s “I Am
Woman, Hear Me Roar” became my musical mantra. Listening to it each morning
gave me an emotional boost and the strength and courage to face the challenges that
were mine each day. Music – a pep rally in C-Minor!
Don
McLean’s “American Pie” refers to the “day the music died.” The music died once
again on December 8, 1980 when John Lennon was murdered. I remember feeling
shock and disbelief and found it impossible to even fathom how someone could
take the life of a talented, peaceful man who musically invited us to Imagine. “Imagine no possessions / I
wonder if you can / No need for greed or hunger / A brotherhood of man / You
may say I’m a dreamer / But I’m not the only one / I hope someday you’ll join us
/ And the world will live as one.” Apparently, Mark David Chapman wasn’t
feeling the brotherhood of man when he chose to snuff out the light that was
Lennon. John Lennon’s “Imagine” became my mourning lament for some time
thereafter and is still among my favorite songs.
My
children were raised in an acoustic environment of my musical repertoire and
learned to appreciate the classics as well classic rock – old time rock and
roll - and still love it today, even though they have developed their own
repertoire of today’s music. I watch my children, grown now, enjoying their
music, enjoying their lives, and I sometimes feel nostalgic about my children
as babies and miss my grandbabies at times that I’m unable see them. No matter
how grown up my children have become they will always be my babies, and my job
as a mother – everlasting. The Dixie Chicks song, “Lullabye”, sums up those
sentiments with lyrical simplicity: “They didn’t have you where I come from /
Never knew the best was yet to come / Life began when I saw your face / And I
hear your laugh like a serenade / How long do you want to be loved / Is forever
enough, is forever enough?” It’s instinctive for parents to feel protective of
their children even after their children are grown. I, personally, am a lioness
when it comes to protecting my own – ready to pounce on anything or anyone
intending them harm. I am not embarrassed to admit that the lyrics from The
Grateful Dead’s song, “I Will Take You Home”, occasionally bring a wistful tear
to my eye: “Ain’t no way the Bogeyman can get you / You can close your eyes,
the world is gonna let you / Your daddy’s here and never will forget you / I
will take you home / I will take you home”. Music – life’s lullaby!
Sometimes,
even with all of life’s blessings, it’s possible occasionally to feel
loneliness, sadness or even despair. At such times, it’s difficult to resist
wallowing in our own self pity. It’s
been my experience that song choices, such as Warren Zevon’s “Poor, Poor
Pitiful Me” or Neil Young’s “Helpless”, are particularly appropriate musical
accompaniment for pity parties. As Maya Angelou wrote in Gather Together in My Name, “Music was my refuge; I could crawl
into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.”
However,
a more emotionally therapeutic alternative for those morose moments would be to
fill the air with uplifting music and joyful songs. My personal preferences for
lifting me from doldrums include Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”, Bob
Marly’s “Three Little Birds”, Judy Garland’s version of “Somewhere Over the
Rainbow”, Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World”, Yael Naim’s “New Soul”,
and, of course, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony”. These choices are emotional and
spiritual endorphins – the wine of inspiration – the mythical Bacchus
melodiously elevating and intoxicating our mood. It’s as Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow poetically proclaimed, “And the night shall be filled with music.
And the cares that infest the day shall fold their tents like Arabs and as
silently steal away.”
There
are few better ways to take a respite from melancholy, stress and worries than
to embark on a tropical get-away or a vacation to any destination with sun,
sand and surf. You will need travel tunes to help you transition from work mode
to vacation mode. Pop a Jimmy Buffet CD into your car CD player and you will
soon be transported to “Margaritaville”, eating a “Cheeseburger in Paradise” –
a place where self-indulgence is the rule rather than the exception – a place
where it’s perfectly acceptable to have a Corona, a Margarita or even a Vodka
Martini in the middle of the day. After all, “it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
Jimmy Buffet – musical manna for the
beach-going soul!
These
are difficult times that we are living in right now. We are involved in a
seemingly endless war and have inherited from the previous presidential
administration an economy and environment literally “raped” by government negligence
and missteps. We bear witness to contentious and self-serving political
bickering and grandstanding that serves only to block President Obama’s
policies and initiatives designed to help America and Americans. My musical
mantra for the exasperation that I feel with this situation – Bob Dylan’s “The
Times They are A’Changin’” and John Mayer’s “Waiting for the World to Change.”
Music – the battle hymn for the disenfranchised!
Being
a Baby Boomer – the Woodstock generation – it’s difficult for me to conceive of
ever growing old when I still feel young at heart and still possess a rock and
roll soul. My musical mantra, and one from which all Boomers can take
consolation, includes Five for Fighting’s “100 Years” and Bob Dylan’s comfort
classic, “Forever Young”. Music –a mellow fountain of youth!
If it’s difficult to fathom the autumn of our
lives, it’s even more unpleasant to think about facing death one day. Remember
that Paul Simon suggested that music should follow us right on up until we die.
I suggest that music should be the soundtrack for our lives even after death.
If I were to choose my funereal soundtrack, it would most assuredly include
Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, James Blunt’s “Carry You Home”, Sarah MacLachlan’s
“Angel”, and Warren Zevon’s “Keep Me in Your Heart”. But, like Scarlett O’Hara,
“I’ll think about that tomorrow.”
On
a more whimsical and personal note, I must admit that when this Boomer Babe
needs a boost to her self esteem, she enjoys listening to The Allman Brothers’
“Sweet Melissa” and foolishly fantasizing that the Bros are singing about her. Silly
you say? Well, that’s okay. “Sweet Melissa” is my song, and I am sweet Melissa!
You see now that there is no disputing the
fact that music does indeed define us. It is the musical score to the
metaphorical movie that is our lives. Tolstoy believed that music is “the
shorthand of emotion.” But Aldous Huxley more precisely captured its impact and
essence in his essay, Music at Night:
“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is
music.”
Picture credit: Stephen Davies
