Thursday, January 19, 2012

a rare musical love affair

One question I dread when I'm getting to know somebody new is the "what kind of music do you like" question, or more specifically "name 5 bands you listen to the most."  (Thanks, Steve.)

I then complain that I can't listen to the same artist for the length of an entire CD.  In fact, I'm far more likely to play the same song on repeat 12 times than listen to a 12-track album all in one pop.  Weird, I know.  But I get very irritated with most artists by about track 04.

With a few exceptions: Simon & Garfunkel, Bruno Mars, Norah Jones, Natalie Merchant, and Train.

Yeah, that's pretty much it.  Go ahead, laugh.  I have no shame.

Anyway, part of the reason I'm thinking about this is because Train recently released a new single, which has been plastered all over my Spotify homepage for at least a week now, and for some reason it took me a long time to listen to it...  But I did, and it's pretty much all I've been listening to for the past 4 days...  Interspersed occasionally with the rest of the discography.  I'm smitten.  Here's the new song:


I would like to point out to all the haters that Train has been cranking out hits since 1998.  That is quite a long pop career.  Or alternative, or whatever they do.  I struggle with genres almost as much as I do with artists.  Plus, somebody pointed out to me yesterday that they've also written music for other people, which is cool.

Now don't worry, because this is more than just my global profession of love for Train (which may very well be stricken from the web, anyway, if SOPA and PIPA all that were to ever go through).  (Also, I have to admit that I'm struggling to take these campaigns seriously since in Spanish sopa means soup and pipa is a pipe.  It trips me up every time, and I never immediately think "oh, internet privacy!"  Despite the fact that this has been going on for quite some time.)

Yes, this post is more than just a profession of love for Train.  It is also my brief, ditzy contribution to the current political uprising.  And it is also about to become a musical deconstruction.

You might have noticed that Train's video features all the lyrics to the song, and you might also have noticed that a few of the lines don't quite make sense.  I'm not too worried about it, though, because life doesn't make sense and love doesn't make sense and even lust doesn't really make sense.  I'd say that's part of the point, is it's irrational, and if you try to organize it too much then it all goes out the window.  I tried to come up with an illustration for how the beauty gets sucked right out, but I couldn't think of anything non-beautiful enough to do the comparison justice.  Nothing bland enough to represent a life so structured and analyzed that there is no room to actually live it.  Nothing hopeless enough.

The title line of the song strikes me, though: This is not a drive by.

There is a low-key commitment in this statement, an awe-inspiring resonance.  I have been here, in this same house, this same tfoL, this same job, 4 months now.  Going on 5.  This is not a drive-by.  I'm not going to pack my car one of these days and split, like I have in the past.  I don't want to.  I want to break that habit.  Desperately.  And in the same vein, I would love to not be the bystander in a drive-by anytime soon.

It's the simplicity of the image, it's not straight up, "I'm never going to leave."  It's more of an, "I've parked my car and turned it off for the night and that's what matters."  The promise exists in a state of extended present, in the current moment that stretches on indefinitely into the future.  Refreshing.  Tantalizing.

And admittedly catchy.

This is the cherry on top I can't ever pass up.  Not that I am inclined to pass up any cherry, really, maraschino, bing or otherwise.  But if it catches my tongue I'm done for.

No comments:

Post a Comment