Siren Song

Siren Song, by Margaret Atwood

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:

the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see beached skulls

the song nobody knows
because anyone who had heard it
is dead, and the others can’t remember.
Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?
I don’t enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical
with these two feathery maniacs,
I don’t enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique

at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.

We read this poem in English class awhile ago, which prompted me to write a poem about my relationship with music in response to it. It's unfinished, but I think that because of this unit we've had in Philosophy class, I'll have to go back and finish it up. I'm very surprised to see just how Platonic some of my writing on music was! I disagree with Plato wholeheartedly on the idea that art, as a whole, is bad, but I am finally starting to understand what he was saying. We become so entranced with aesthetics, that we forget how they relate to their own life. We drift away into a fantasy world where we don't have to play by the rules of our own life. Do we attach false meanings to art, in order to justify our irrational enjoyment of it? I don't know.

Anyways, I know Plato is no fan of poetry, but I think he would certainly appreciate the idea Atwood has here. :)

My Song

I've had this post sitting unfinished for about a month now. Since this is our second musical assignment this year, I think it's a good time to finally get this done!

I'm can't say I'm really proud of the song I wrote for class, which basically is about me not wanting to write a song. The thought of having to write something and present it to the class was so nerve-wracking to me that I put it off until the morning of, when I decided I didn't have the time or desire to finish the assignment. I had been thinking of what to write before that point, but I was so nervous about writing something bad, that I ended up scrapping every one of my attempts before I got anywhere. Even though I knew this wasn't meant to be a masterpiece or anything, I hated the thought of writing and presenting so much that I almost convinced myself I didn't actually have to do it, and I wouldn't be able to do it anyways.

Of course I was forced out of that delusion after going to class, and I wrote the song that night. Like I said in class, I had been trying use melodies to songs I really loved, but then I never wanted to change the lyrics. So I chose Will The Circle Be Unbroken because it has a pretty, simple melody, and I didn't know much of the lyrics beforehand. I wrote about fear, nerves, and regret because these things prevent me from going on with a lot of plans- even the smallest things, like this assignment. At the time I was feeling especially stressed and miserable about the college application process, which added to my worry that I couldn't do anything well. So the song was meant to be my response to all of that; I was telling myself to gain some confidence and be more positive.

Surprisingly, I actually really enjoyed singing in front of class. I'm not a great singer or guitar player, but I felt like was sharing an intimate part of myself- and that didn't bother me! I could forget all the worry I hard over the assignment and just enjoy performing . And it was wonderful to hear what everyone else created. There were some truly amazing songs!

I am reminded of a project we had sophomore year, in which we had to write a short story about anything we wanted to. I wanted so badly to write something really well, and became so nervous and disappointed in what I was doing that I made myself miserable. It got to the point that I couldn't even look at or think about writing anything. I hated it. For no reason! No one was going to criticize me about anything I wrote. It wasn't being published. I ended up turning in a haphazardly written story two days before the school year ended- over a month after the project was due.

I think that there's an idea, or even hope, that creating a piece of writing or art is some random act of brilliance. Close your eyes and pour out all your thoughts and emotions- then something beautiful will be created if you have it in you. But it is a long, painful process. You have to come up with a lot of bad stuff before you can hit something gold. You have to revise, redo, revise and redo, a million times. You have to spend so much time working on something that you don't want to look at it anymore. You have to fail some before you can succeed.

And the idea of failure is always frightening. But, at least in my case, failing at something this intimate stings that much more. If you can't even successfully express what you're feeling, what the hell can you do? That's a warped line of thought I often fall to. It's hurt me a lot over the past few years. Creation is a continuing process. It is not an all-or-nothing attempt. Every step you take is improvement. You just have to summon up the courage and persistence to take those steps.

Wall Of Death

Wall of Death, by Richard & Linda Thompson

I wanted to do another song that was faster and livelier. This song is from the album Shoot Out The Lights. Considering the title, it's funny that this is the most upbeat track on the album!

I can't say this song accurately pinpoints any one point in my life, because I am not that cool. But the way it describes becoming bored with every typical, mundane activity is something I think most of us can relate to. We are all somewhat drawn to what is most risky and dangerous. The narrator in this song doesn't care for anything at a carnival except the "Wall of Death", which could symbolize any risk, or even destructive behavior. I'm an extremely cautious, worrisome person, so I like that this song advocates throwing aside all your boring day-to-day activities and living on the edge. At the same time, it's kind of sad. The person in the song doesn't enjoy anything unless it's somewhat destructive. On some level, I think this speaks to all of us. Even if we live perfectly "normal" lives, we may have some small, secret hope to forget it all and just leap.

Also, the guitar playing in this song is great, especially in the live version I have on my iPod. I love the way the song is set up as someone going to a fair. This is just a really fun song I love to listen to at home.

Don't You Take It Too Bad

Don't You Take It Too Bad, by Townes Van Zandt

I first heard this song earlier this year. I think it is the perfect song for any slow, rainy morning. Or anytime you're feeling down and tired ( and unfeeling, unloving, and alone. :) ). I love this song because it reminds me that we aren't perfect and life isn't perfect, and to not stress if things aren't going exactly they should. The lines: "And if you go searching/ For rhyme or for reason/ Well you won't have the time/ That it takes just for talking" are great, especially considering how much we search for meaning in a philosophy class. Although it is important to look to the big picture, we can't become obsessed with trying to find something "better" and forget how enjoyable small things in life are.

This song speaks to me, because honestly, I often feel guilty about the person I am and how I spend my time, like I'm not living the "right" way. And this always makes me smile, because I remember that everyone feels this from time to time. Life can be a bit screwy, but there is still beauty found in some of the most common things. How soft the time flies past your window at night. The sweetness of springtime and the sound of the rain. I feel happy and not alone.

As for my personal aesthetic, I love how Townes Van Zandt uses a simplistic lyrical style in his songs to express emotion so powerfully. The instrumentals in this particular song are very pretty and relaxing, and the words are also soft and sweet. They fit together perfectly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lioB6CQeEX4

Tolstoy on Beethoven's "Kreutzer Sonata"

A terrible thing is that sonata, especially the presto! And a terrible thing is music in general. What is it? Why does it do what it does? They say that music stirs the soul. Stupidity! A lie! It acts, it acts frightfully (I speak for myself), but not in an ennobling way. It acts neither in an ennobling nor a debasing way, but in an irritating way. How shall I say it? Music makes me forget my real situation. It transports me into a state which is not my own. Under the influence of music I really seem to feel what I do not feel, to understand what I do not understand, to have powers which I cannot have. Music seems to me to act like yawning or laughter; I have no desire to sleep, but I yawn when I see others yawn; with no reason to laugh, I laugh when I hear others laugh. And music transports me immediately into the condition of soul in which he who wrote the music found himself at that time. I become confounded with his soul, and with him I pass from one condition to another. But why that? I know nothing about it? But he who wrote Beethoven’s ‘Kreutzer Sonata’ knew well why he found himself in a certain condition. That condition led him to certain actions, and for that reason to him had a meaning, but to me none, none whatever. And that is why music provokes an excitement which it does not bring to a conclusion. For instance, a military march is played; the soldier passes to the sound of this march, and the music is finished. A dance is played; I have finished dancing, and the music is finished. A mass is sung; I receive the sacrament, and again the music is finished. But any other music provokes an excitement, and this excitement is not accompanied by the thing that needs properly to be done, and that is why music is so dangerous, and sometimes acts so frightfully.

I saw this quote a few days ago. It is from a story by Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata (I have not read it). Interesting, Platonic perspective.

In a way, the narrator here is correct. If we ourselves create a piece of music, it is entirely our own, but what of music which is created by someone completely different than us? Often times, I find myself taking on the emotions expressed in a song, even though I have never experienced them myself in their purest form. I have never been in love, but I still listen to love songs. Art represents the possibility. As Aristotle would say, art represents the universal through particulars. All humans have the capability to experience an event and react to it. For a moment, art can make all these possibilities into reality. It awakens emotions in us that we do not know we have. It extends our own reality to include that of all human existence.

Music

You couldn't tell it was a Friday night at my house. At 9:30, almost all the lights were out. Both my sisters were asleep, my mom was reading upstairs with only a faint bluish glow from the nook, and my dad was dozing off in front of a muted baseball game on tv. I was rediscovering my love of piano.

Over the summer, I all but completely stopped practicing piano and guitar. Piano became a once-a-week, half-an-hour obligation where I had to try and not disappoint my teacher too much. And I didn't touch a guitar unless my dad asked me to play with him for 20 minutes or so. I felt tired, lazy, uninspired. With the start of senior year, this only worsened, as I was distracted and stressed out by everything school-related.

I'm not sure how to put this, but I felt passive and exhausted at the beginning of this school year. I was getting less sleep than ever, I felt like I couldn't devote my time to anything, I was losing interest in most everything. For awhile, it was basically walking to school and sitting around, then walking home and sitting around. So for those 45 minutes when I finally decided to sit down and create something beautiful, something I love, I felt happier then ever. I was alone in my own world, playing slow, sad, haunting, dramatic, peaceful, beautiful music. And it was all my own.

Music has always been a very personal, intimate thing for me. I don't like to listen to it or play it when any one else is around. Because the thought that something so affecting for me could be silly or wrong to someone else is frankly frightening. At the same time, isn't music a great unifier? Some 3 minute song can move thousands of people. People can have an personal connection with a song, while knowing that so many others have been touched by the same, simple arrangement of notes.

This is why I'm trying to be less insecure and protective of my music. I used to never play piano when anyone else was around- because I might make mistakes and burden them with having to hear something "wrong." And I still look forward to the times when my family heads off to one of my sister's softball tournaments, and I can play one of my dad's SACDS which is incompatible with my iTunes, and spin around and sing alone, free from fear of judgement. But if I play something when someone else is around, and they don't enjoy it, I don't want to feel bad about bugging them. I want to live music. Because the only sad thing is when we are unable to appreciate something so individually yet universally beautiful.