Fallen - Evanescence
For a brief period during my teens, my family had cable and VH1 played music videos for an hour before school started. There are a small number of pop songs that have the distinction of having been released during that time, and thus are the only songs I've seen videos of. Bring Me To Life by Evanescence is one of them. I, like many teenagers suffering from periodic depression, was attracted to extreme displays of melancholy, so I was of course attracted to the agony-ridden lyrics and desolate imagery in the Bring Me To Life video (featuring the lead singer dangling off the side of a building). So I got the album, Fallen, and proceeded to annoy my family with it.
One of my father's first observations was that all the songs sound the same, and he was correct. Every song on this album is also about the same sorts of things: despair, deep spiritual and emotional suffering, and the desperation to sacrifice anything to end that suffering. Everybody's Fool is the only song that identifies an external source for the bad feelings it expresses, in the person of a manipulative and deceitful queen-bee type. All the others strongly imply an inner source of turmoil, which in turn implies a struggle with mental illness. It's the perfect album for a depressed adolescent to obsess over.
But it's not just the lyrics that make this music especially cathartic in a pure and addictive way. The music itself employs hard-rock instrumentation, orchestral interludes, and even a segment of latin chanting to give an individual, mental crisis a sense of grand scale and importance. Until that point, many mental health issues were minimized and derided as "only in one's head", and an implicit acknowledgement that these issues are both real and life-threatening was novel at the time. In more recent years, media attention to the threats of mental illness especially to adolescents has made progress, but there is still much that needs to change. Music like this is probably doing more good than harm, despite its tendency toward tiresome, formulaic melodrama. So I tend to enjoy it, even now that I am older, healthier, and have slightly more nuanced (even hipsterish) tastes.
A groundbreaking approach to the portrayal of mental illness may not have been the band's original intention, by the way. It's often circulated as a "shocking but true fact" that Evanescence got their start as a Christian rock band. I did not find this shocking. I had noticed almost right away that Tourniquet contained lines like "my soul cries for deliverance," and references to salvation and even "Christ". In several songs it is easy to interpret the source of intense inner suffering not as mental illness, but sin and damnation. But I am not a Christian, and I do deal with mental illness issues, so I like my interpretation better.
Next: The Open Door
And: The End of Shelf One
Monday, January 12, 2015
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
All My CDs, pt 37: The Memory of Trees
The Memory of Trees - Enya
A few years ago I was at a yard sale, and while I was getting some other items I noticed a box of CDs marked as $.50 each. Enya's The Memory of Trees was the only one I thought worth getting, and since fifty cents would hardly set me back, I just added it to my pile. I don't remember ever putting it on until now, though.
I don't listen to Enya very often, although I've owned a few of her albums over the years (I only own one right now.) I realized, while listening to The Memory of Trees, that it's for much the same reason that I don't often listen to soundtracks. Ambient music, though pleasant, doesn't attract enough of my attention to stay on my mind and therefore in my player once the novelty has worn off. If music has meaningful lyrics, or a catchy tune, or awe-inspiring grandeur of sound, I am liable occasionally to be "in the mood" for it... rather than the music being little more than a mood itself.
I cannot deny the value of this album as a mood-enhancer. The calmness it exudes makes it perfect for situations like massages or bubble baths. It is less effective at motivating chores, workouts or other more active endeavors. If I listen while driving, I drive ten below the limit. And when people impatiently drive over the yellow lines to pass me, I don't even flinch from my fugue of inner calm.
But although Enya's music is mostly of that ambient, nearly soporific type, a few of her songs have enough of a tune and notable lyrics to stay in my head longer than their own run time. Orinoco Flow and Only Time are examples, but they are not on this album. Instead there's --, which isn't as catchy as either, but attempts to be. I think its stilted rhyming puts me off a little, as well as its overfocus on lyrics when Enya's voice has a tendency to be indistinct (a strength rather than a weakness for the more ambient tracks). The instrumental -- is more to my liking, with a cheerful, bubbly sound probably achieved electronically.
I needed some low-stress albums like Driving Blind and this one, because I'll be ending my first shelf of CDs with a few by Evanescence. After that, there will be a short break before I begin the second shelf.
Next: Fallen
A few years ago I was at a yard sale, and while I was getting some other items I noticed a box of CDs marked as $.50 each. Enya's The Memory of Trees was the only one I thought worth getting, and since fifty cents would hardly set me back, I just added it to my pile. I don't remember ever putting it on until now, though.
I don't listen to Enya very often, although I've owned a few of her albums over the years (I only own one right now.) I realized, while listening to The Memory of Trees, that it's for much the same reason that I don't often listen to soundtracks. Ambient music, though pleasant, doesn't attract enough of my attention to stay on my mind and therefore in my player once the novelty has worn off. If music has meaningful lyrics, or a catchy tune, or awe-inspiring grandeur of sound, I am liable occasionally to be "in the mood" for it... rather than the music being little more than a mood itself.
I cannot deny the value of this album as a mood-enhancer. The calmness it exudes makes it perfect for situations like massages or bubble baths. It is less effective at motivating chores, workouts or other more active endeavors. If I listen while driving, I drive ten below the limit. And when people impatiently drive over the yellow lines to pass me, I don't even flinch from my fugue of inner calm.
But although Enya's music is mostly of that ambient, nearly soporific type, a few of her songs have enough of a tune and notable lyrics to stay in my head longer than their own run time. Orinoco Flow and Only Time are examples, but they are not on this album. Instead there's --, which isn't as catchy as either, but attempts to be. I think its stilted rhyming puts me off a little, as well as its overfocus on lyrics when Enya's voice has a tendency to be indistinct (a strength rather than a weakness for the more ambient tracks). The instrumental -- is more to my liking, with a cheerful, bubbly sound probably achieved electronically.
I needed some low-stress albums like Driving Blind and this one, because I'll be ending my first shelf of CDs with a few by Evanescence. After that, there will be a short break before I begin the second shelf.
Next: Fallen
Monday, December 15, 2014
All My CDs, pt. 36: Driving Blind
Driving Blind - Driving Blind
This is perhaps the second or third album among several that I picked up nearly at random and bought, with no knowledge about the band or any idea of what the music would sound like. I was in my early teens at the time, prone to fits of drama, and new to this adventurous method of discovery, so my expectations exceeded reality from time to time. I was a little disappointed to find that this bland-looking cover contained an album of equally bland-sounding easy-listening-type songs.
But fortune rewards the patient. When teenage-me finished the first nine lackluster tracks, at the end I found what I’d been waiting for: a hidden gem. The final track, Cover Your Eyes, is a piece of musical wisdom that has stuck with me ever since.
I’m grass
you’ve tread on
I’ve known bending, but still I’ve grown
it’s a long ride
to the witness grounds
all the baggage seems to weigh us down
but I surrender is the hardest sign
when neither owns a flag
The message is simple: it’s better to bend, to surrender, than to remain steadfast and perpetuate needless conflict. The stubborn suffer for the smallest of petty principles, but those who remain flexible and know when to give in may find the way much easier for themselves.
Now, I say that this song has stuck with me, but that doesn’t mean I always remember and put into practice its advice. I’ve found myself in countless conflicts I could have easily ended by making some small concession, but something inside me - stubbornness, anger, selfishness, or a vain hope that I might very soon win - has kept me trying to have my way. The most important lessons in life are often the most difficult to fully internalize. One day, I hope this one sinks in to the point where I really can bend, like grass, with the wind.
Next: The Memory of Trees
This is perhaps the second or third album among several that I picked up nearly at random and bought, with no knowledge about the band or any idea of what the music would sound like. I was in my early teens at the time, prone to fits of drama, and new to this adventurous method of discovery, so my expectations exceeded reality from time to time. I was a little disappointed to find that this bland-looking cover contained an album of equally bland-sounding easy-listening-type songs.
But fortune rewards the patient. When teenage-me finished the first nine lackluster tracks, at the end I found what I’d been waiting for: a hidden gem. The final track, Cover Your Eyes, is a piece of musical wisdom that has stuck with me ever since.
I’m grass
you’ve tread on
I’ve known bending, but still I’ve grown
it’s a long ride
to the witness grounds
all the baggage seems to weigh us down
but I surrender is the hardest sign
when neither owns a flag
The message is simple: it’s better to bend, to surrender, than to remain steadfast and perpetuate needless conflict. The stubborn suffer for the smallest of petty principles, but those who remain flexible and know when to give in may find the way much easier for themselves.
Now, I say that this song has stuck with me, but that doesn’t mean I always remember and put into practice its advice. I’ve found myself in countless conflicts I could have easily ended by making some small concession, but something inside me - stubbornness, anger, selfishness, or a vain hope that I might very soon win - has kept me trying to have my way. The most important lessons in life are often the most difficult to fully internalize. One day, I hope this one sinks in to the point where I really can bend, like grass, with the wind.
Next: The Memory of Trees
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
All My CDs, pt. 35: Magnicifent
Magnicifent - Driftless Pony Club
A pattern I have is that I buy one album, and if I like it, I buy another by the same artist. Mostly, it ends there; either I am disappointed by the second one and not inclined to try another, or I am satisfied with only two. Sometimes I encounter a musician that captivates me such that I go about collecting their entire discography, but it seems that many of the artists in my collection are represented in only two disks.
Driftless Pony Club is among those bands. But when I first listened to Magnicifent (not a misspelling, but the album's actual title), I was not disappointed. I think it's a vast improvement over Buckminster, which was fairly good in its own right. Between the making of one and the other, I think DPC honed their craft and became more adventurous, as the songs here are more varied and interesting to listen to, as well as more emotionally evocative.
Although the overall mood is cheerful, a few songs are not. 18 Years Later describes a desolate and despairing mission to Mars, and since my first science fiction short story was along similar lines, this one hits as close to home as it could for someone who's never ventured more than a thousand miles from home. All Quiet isn’t quite as morbid, but is nonetheless quite dark.
But most of the songs are more optimistic. YR MNHTN, besides being one of the most instrumentally interesting songs, espouses a very positive attitude toward music itself: “Other people’s lives are failures, baby / but all of our mistakes are art / keep the record going, keep the music going / every song’s a brand new start.” This refrain proves to be delightfully catchy as well as meaningful.
Another of my favorites is Bedrolls Across America, which I love because it seems to be a love song from the members of the band to each other: “I’d sleep in a van with you if it meant we could do what we always meant to do.” It describes the beautiful feeling of not only being with people you care about, but achieving with them a mutually-held dream - such as becoming a rock band and going on tour. The song never fails to give me warm fuzzy feelings and hopes for a positive future. Fountain City gives me similar feelings, although I have more trouble parsing the lyrics to tell you exactly why. It’s a remarkably upbeat song.
I’d definitely recommend this album over Buckminster, although I do like them both. I may even someday break my two-disk pattern to buy more albums by this band, if they’re equally fun to listen to.
Next: Driving Blind
A pattern I have is that I buy one album, and if I like it, I buy another by the same artist. Mostly, it ends there; either I am disappointed by the second one and not inclined to try another, or I am satisfied with only two. Sometimes I encounter a musician that captivates me such that I go about collecting their entire discography, but it seems that many of the artists in my collection are represented in only two disks.
Driftless Pony Club is among those bands. But when I first listened to Magnicifent (not a misspelling, but the album's actual title), I was not disappointed. I think it's a vast improvement over Buckminster, which was fairly good in its own right. Between the making of one and the other, I think DPC honed their craft and became more adventurous, as the songs here are more varied and interesting to listen to, as well as more emotionally evocative.
Although the overall mood is cheerful, a few songs are not. 18 Years Later describes a desolate and despairing mission to Mars, and since my first science fiction short story was along similar lines, this one hits as close to home as it could for someone who's never ventured more than a thousand miles from home. All Quiet isn’t quite as morbid, but is nonetheless quite dark.
But most of the songs are more optimistic. YR MNHTN, besides being one of the most instrumentally interesting songs, espouses a very positive attitude toward music itself: “Other people’s lives are failures, baby / but all of our mistakes are art / keep the record going, keep the music going / every song’s a brand new start.” This refrain proves to be delightfully catchy as well as meaningful.
Another of my favorites is Bedrolls Across America, which I love because it seems to be a love song from the members of the band to each other: “I’d sleep in a van with you if it meant we could do what we always meant to do.” It describes the beautiful feeling of not only being with people you care about, but achieving with them a mutually-held dream - such as becoming a rock band and going on tour. The song never fails to give me warm fuzzy feelings and hopes for a positive future. Fountain City gives me similar feelings, although I have more trouble parsing the lyrics to tell you exactly why. It’s a remarkably upbeat song.
I’d definitely recommend this album over Buckminster, although I do like them both. I may even someday break my two-disk pattern to buy more albums by this band, if they’re equally fun to listen to.
Next: Driving Blind
Tuesday, December 02, 2014
All My CDs, pt. 34: Buckminster
Buckminster - Driftless Pony Club
In the current popcultural landscape, creators and creations in different media are often interconnected, with a band creating music devoted to a show or book series, an author promoting his favorite musicians, or comics centered on critique and appreciation for video games. In the case of Driftless Pony Club, I would never have heard of them if not for vocalist/guitarist Craig Benzine's mostly-unrelated (to anything) vlog. While watching his vlog of the band's tour I caught ear of some of the songs, and liked what I heard.
It’s taken me over a year to get a handle on what I like about Driftless Pony Club. Their music is pretty, but unpretentious, and occasionally shows some rough edges but still shines in other areas. They employ the conventional rock configuration of lead and backup vocals, guitars, bass, drums, and keyboard, with few other instruments appearing. I’m not sure how much of my enjoyment of the music is derived from my knowledge of its members from their appearances on Craig Benzine’s vlog and other videos he’s made (watching a vlog for an extended period can often begin to feel like friendship). Regardless, I do enjoy their music.
Buckminster in particular is an example of a concept album I was too ignorant to recognize at first. The songs' lyrics contain numerous references to the life, work, and philosophy of Buckminster Fuller. I had heard of him, but only as the namesake of "buckyballs" and designer of geodesic domes. Since then my knowledge has expanded to include a few quotes and biographical errata, but I have neglected to familiarize myself more fully with him and his life. I have little doubt that once I have, I will suddenly understand more of the lyrics on this album.
It's fair to mention another contributor to my general lack of understanding. The vocal tracks are often not balanced with the instrumental ones such that the words are easy to hear, and the CD's liner notes do not include song lyrics. I am not complaining per se. One aspect is a musical aesthetic choice, the other a visual one, and neither is objectively wrong. Nevertheless, it does make the intellectual meanings of the songs rather obscure.
Personally, I’m not sure if more attention on the vocals would actually help Driftless Pony Club’s musical quality, since voice isn’t where the band gets their beauty. In my opinion, that beauty lies wherever the catchiest melodic refrain is - whether it’s in the vocals, a guitar riff, or wherever. Those moments are relatively understated, but worth watching out for.
Next: Magnicifent
In the current popcultural landscape, creators and creations in different media are often interconnected, with a band creating music devoted to a show or book series, an author promoting his favorite musicians, or comics centered on critique and appreciation for video games. In the case of Driftless Pony Club, I would never have heard of them if not for vocalist/guitarist Craig Benzine's mostly-unrelated (to anything) vlog. While watching his vlog of the band's tour I caught ear of some of the songs, and liked what I heard.
It’s taken me over a year to get a handle on what I like about Driftless Pony Club. Their music is pretty, but unpretentious, and occasionally shows some rough edges but still shines in other areas. They employ the conventional rock configuration of lead and backup vocals, guitars, bass, drums, and keyboard, with few other instruments appearing. I’m not sure how much of my enjoyment of the music is derived from my knowledge of its members from their appearances on Craig Benzine’s vlog and other videos he’s made (watching a vlog for an extended period can often begin to feel like friendship). Regardless, I do enjoy their music.
Buckminster in particular is an example of a concept album I was too ignorant to recognize at first. The songs' lyrics contain numerous references to the life, work, and philosophy of Buckminster Fuller. I had heard of him, but only as the namesake of "buckyballs" and designer of geodesic domes. Since then my knowledge has expanded to include a few quotes and biographical errata, but I have neglected to familiarize myself more fully with him and his life. I have little doubt that once I have, I will suddenly understand more of the lyrics on this album.
It's fair to mention another contributor to my general lack of understanding. The vocal tracks are often not balanced with the instrumental ones such that the words are easy to hear, and the CD's liner notes do not include song lyrics. I am not complaining per se. One aspect is a musical aesthetic choice, the other a visual one, and neither is objectively wrong. Nevertheless, it does make the intellectual meanings of the songs rather obscure.
Personally, I’m not sure if more attention on the vocals would actually help Driftless Pony Club’s musical quality, since voice isn’t where the band gets their beauty. In my opinion, that beauty lies wherever the catchiest melodic refrain is - whether it’s in the vocals, a guitar riff, or wherever. Those moments are relatively understated, but worth watching out for.
Next: Magnicifent
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
All My CDs, pt 33: Born to Die
Born to Die - Lana Del Rey
I bought this album a few years ago because two songs showed up on my Pandora station, and I thought they were pretty rad. I had never heard of Lana Del Rey before, probably because I live a very sheltered life of listening to classical radio and watching no television except for Doctor Who. (The motive for this self-insulation is onefold: I hate ads.) Later, I learned that there is a bit of a controversy about whether Lana Del Rey counts as a real person and therefore worthy of any respect or attention as a musician. I have no thoughts of my own on the subject, but if you’re craving such discussion I refer you to this video and this article.
I'm not sure what originally attracted me to Lana Del Rey. Perhaps it was the generous use of stringed accompaniment combined with fascinatingly versatile vocals (deep and disaffected one moment, high and girlish the next). The lyrics may have played a role as well. They present an almost charicaturistic picture of the crassest and most problematic version of girlhood and femininity: conflating performance and appearance with sexuality, sexuality with love, and all three with wealth and luxury, all wrapped up in a mindset that one's well-being depends entirely on a man. But the sadness that permeates even the happiest-seeming lyrics belies the truth that this is all the twisted fantasy of a deeply damaged soul: “Carmen, Carmen doesn't have a problem / Lyin' to herself 'cause her liquor's top-shelf"”
The whole album could be interpreted as a brutal take-down of pop culture's destructive objectification of women, so sickeningly pervasive that girls grow up thinking of themselves as mere objects whose lives are meaningless and miserable if they are not appealing to men in a very superficial way. This sort of outlook makes it excruciatingly important to obtain and maintain male affection and love, even at the expense of personal health and other relationships.
The "nothing is more important than pleasing my man" attitude pervades every song on the album. Video Games's sweet refrain goes "It's you, it's you, it's all for you / everything I do." Dark Paradise illustrates the devastation that occurs when such an all-consuming relationship ends. One song, This Is What Makes Us Girls, explicitly links the problematic values system to gender: "This is what makes us girls / we don't stick together 'cause we put love first." The same song somewhat self-consciously underlines some of the tragic consequences, but fatalistically fails to recognize that it is not inevitable, that girls can follow another path, one where self-worth is not tied to sexual objectification.
Contrasting and complimenting the dark and gender-dystopian lyrics, the instrumentation is sumptuously orchestral, with bowed stringed instruments accompanying the sultry vocal strains. The combination of music and tragic words makes each song, at least for me, deeply saddening. I have at times found myself switching to another CD to avoid flinging myself into a melancholic funk just before a work shift or important dinner. It is certainly not music I would play all the time, but I could not imagine removing it from my collection. It's just too interesting.
Next: Buckminster
I bought this album a few years ago because two songs showed up on my Pandora station, and I thought they were pretty rad. I had never heard of Lana Del Rey before, probably because I live a very sheltered life of listening to classical radio and watching no television except for Doctor Who. (The motive for this self-insulation is onefold: I hate ads.) Later, I learned that there is a bit of a controversy about whether Lana Del Rey counts as a real person and therefore worthy of any respect or attention as a musician. I have no thoughts of my own on the subject, but if you’re craving such discussion I refer you to this video and this article.
I'm not sure what originally attracted me to Lana Del Rey. Perhaps it was the generous use of stringed accompaniment combined with fascinatingly versatile vocals (deep and disaffected one moment, high and girlish the next). The lyrics may have played a role as well. They present an almost charicaturistic picture of the crassest and most problematic version of girlhood and femininity: conflating performance and appearance with sexuality, sexuality with love, and all three with wealth and luxury, all wrapped up in a mindset that one's well-being depends entirely on a man. But the sadness that permeates even the happiest-seeming lyrics belies the truth that this is all the twisted fantasy of a deeply damaged soul: “Carmen, Carmen doesn't have a problem / Lyin' to herself 'cause her liquor's top-shelf"”
The whole album could be interpreted as a brutal take-down of pop culture's destructive objectification of women, so sickeningly pervasive that girls grow up thinking of themselves as mere objects whose lives are meaningless and miserable if they are not appealing to men in a very superficial way. This sort of outlook makes it excruciatingly important to obtain and maintain male affection and love, even at the expense of personal health and other relationships.
The "nothing is more important than pleasing my man" attitude pervades every song on the album. Video Games's sweet refrain goes "It's you, it's you, it's all for you / everything I do." Dark Paradise illustrates the devastation that occurs when such an all-consuming relationship ends. One song, This Is What Makes Us Girls, explicitly links the problematic values system to gender: "This is what makes us girls / we don't stick together 'cause we put love first." The same song somewhat self-consciously underlines some of the tragic consequences, but fatalistically fails to recognize that it is not inevitable, that girls can follow another path, one where self-worth is not tied to sexual objectification.
Contrasting and complimenting the dark and gender-dystopian lyrics, the instrumentation is sumptuously orchestral, with bowed stringed instruments accompanying the sultry vocal strains. The combination of music and tragic words makes each song, at least for me, deeply saddening. I have at times found myself switching to another CD to avoid flinging myself into a melancholic funk just before a work shift or important dinner. It is certainly not music I would play all the time, but I could not imagine removing it from my collection. It's just too interesting.
Next: Buckminster
Thursday, November 06, 2014
All My CDs, pt 32: All One
All One - Krishna Das
Several years after falling in love with the album Pilgrim Heart, I decided to see if the same artist had any other interesting albums, and on that basis I bought All One. I did not think much about the title, assuming it to be a reference to the monism of Hindu philosophy - the belief that all beings are one being, all different identities of the same all-encompassing divine spirit. This belief encourages compassion and nonviolence, since it’s hard to be cruel or uncaring to a fellow being when you believe that he is you, and that his pain is yours as well.
When I first put it on, my impression of the first track that it was a bit slow-moving and monotonous, even compared to the repetitiveness I had appreciated in Pilgrim Heart. I found myself advancing to the next track before hearing all eighteen minutes of the first, and found it similarly boring. I took the CD out and don’t remember picking it back up again until now.
When I started listening this time, I committed to listening to the whole thing nonjudgmentally, even at the risk of some boredom. My reward was something of a revelation. Yes, the first track is even more repetitive and less variable than Pilgrim Heart. And yes, all the other tracks are just like it. In fact, the entire fifty-three minutes is all one song. The moment I realized that, I found myself murmering “I see what you did there.”
The song consists of four lines known as the Mahamantra, or “great mantra”:
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama
Rama Rama Hare Hare
Even within the lines of the mantra there is simply a repetition of names of God, nothing more intricate than that. The music alternates between a very slow melody with minimal accompaniment and a more upbeat segment with more instruments and more energy. The instruments themselves are a combination of Eastern and Western, modern and traditional, including flutes and guitars and violins and mixed percussion, played in a variety of styles. The whole thing has a very improvised, spontaneous feel to it, and I cannot now think of any of it as boring.
And nor is the worldview that all beings are one being, that all things are expression of one divine love. Hinduism believes in oneness, but is also a massively polytheistic faith - the one contains many, varied and exciting and infinitely complex. Just as our world contains billions of unique and interesting people and hundreds of unique and beautiful cultures, but we all share one world and a common identity as human beings.
Peace.
Next: Born to Die
Several years after falling in love with the album Pilgrim Heart, I decided to see if the same artist had any other interesting albums, and on that basis I bought All One. I did not think much about the title, assuming it to be a reference to the monism of Hindu philosophy - the belief that all beings are one being, all different identities of the same all-encompassing divine spirit. This belief encourages compassion and nonviolence, since it’s hard to be cruel or uncaring to a fellow being when you believe that he is you, and that his pain is yours as well.
When I first put it on, my impression of the first track that it was a bit slow-moving and monotonous, even compared to the repetitiveness I had appreciated in Pilgrim Heart. I found myself advancing to the next track before hearing all eighteen minutes of the first, and found it similarly boring. I took the CD out and don’t remember picking it back up again until now.
When I started listening this time, I committed to listening to the whole thing nonjudgmentally, even at the risk of some boredom. My reward was something of a revelation. Yes, the first track is even more repetitive and less variable than Pilgrim Heart. And yes, all the other tracks are just like it. In fact, the entire fifty-three minutes is all one song. The moment I realized that, I found myself murmering “I see what you did there.”
The song consists of four lines known as the Mahamantra, or “great mantra”:
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama
Rama Rama Hare Hare
Even within the lines of the mantra there is simply a repetition of names of God, nothing more intricate than that. The music alternates between a very slow melody with minimal accompaniment and a more upbeat segment with more instruments and more energy. The instruments themselves are a combination of Eastern and Western, modern and traditional, including flutes and guitars and violins and mixed percussion, played in a variety of styles. The whole thing has a very improvised, spontaneous feel to it, and I cannot now think of any of it as boring.
And nor is the worldview that all beings are one being, that all things are expression of one divine love. Hinduism believes in oneness, but is also a massively polytheistic faith - the one contains many, varied and exciting and infinitely complex. Just as our world contains billions of unique and interesting people and hundreds of unique and beautiful cultures, but we all share one world and a common identity as human beings.
Peace.
Next: Born to Die
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)