The Music Inside Never Ends

For any of my new (or old) FB friends who haven't looked at my blog, I hope you check it out. It contains chapter excerpts from my unpublished book The Music Inside, about the music that develops and remains in all of us. You can scroll down to start chapter 1 to 31. Your comments are always welcome! -- Tom

Deja-Voodoo (excerpt from Final Chapter 31)

Music and rhythm is everywhere -- the folks such as those who present Stomp have proven that in their unique performances. I recall the difficult, final few miles of running the Chicago Marathon in crisp October air, the sound of traffic on Lake Shore Drive merged with crowd cheers, distant music and the breathing and footsteps of runners, fatigued but visualizing the triumph of completion. Those sounds created an unearthly life rhythm that I can never forget. Yet it surrounds us -- in bowling alleys and factories, shorelines and forests, from flags and sails -- all those places where musical rhythm instantly forms in our heads.

Excerpts from The Music Inside have, hopefully, caused you to reflect on all those changing musical moments in your life. Yet, I sometimes wonder where all this music is headed. Who is carrying on the tradition of all those Slovak melodies played on ukeleles at my family picnics so long ago? Where are all those old friends who bravely emulated songs of others in our living rooms and garages? What became of the original songs that friends, and so many others, wrote about the times of their lives? Will they suddenly reappear or become re-invented on YouTube? What about those hip media of my times that embraced musical evolutions and presented it to us -- such as Rolling Stone Magazine and MTV -- who themselves transitioned and will continue transitioning their methods of conveying the music?

Jann Wenner, who built Rolling Stone magazine into a publishing empire, is enthused about the possibilities of downloading technology. In Boom!, Tom Brokaw's bestselling book about the sixties era, Wenner declares -- "Now it's instantly available on your computer, on your desk -- anytime, night and day, and that progression is just so powerful." It opens up new sounds for younger generations -- kids who can appreciate the legacy and significance of the Beatles, Hendrix, Dylan, Sinatra, etc. etc. But, in reverse, older generations (those with interest and curiosity) also have easy access to current music of all types.

Music constantly reinvents itself in both form and distribution. But, it ultimately returns, often from strange places in the past. Thanks for listening.

Year of the Cat (excerpt from chapter 30)

There is a near-perfect song from 1976 called "Year of the Cat," from a Scottish artist named Al Stewart. It is a poetic, soft tune that refers to a term from Vietnamese astrology, also know as "Year of the Rabbit." It is supposedly a stress-free year which occurred in 1975 (just before Stewart's hit), 1987 and 1999 with one on the horizon in 2011. On a website called "Songfacts," i found numerous comments about this song, some people interpreting it for deep analogies, others caught up in the Casablanca movie-inspired imagery:

On a morning from a Bogart movie
in a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat.......from "Year of the Cat", Al Stewart, 1976

Throughout musical history, there are countless songs with words about time, age and the meaning of life. All are subject to interpretation but some become "earworms," haunting us with melodies and thoughts that may even guide us on our paths. Sometimes we see ourselves in these songs and realize our own changes. We are influenced by heredity and the people and places along the way, endlessly hoping that every year will be our "year of the cat." The music inside follows us from birth to whatever lies beyond death. Harps in heaven? Bass drums in hell? Maybe, but we can always expect new sounds to add to our immortal playlist.

It's All Relative, Part 2, The Junior Class (excerpt from chapter 29)

These next selections are from a nephew and a niece with her spouse, all 30-somethings:

My Nephew's Songs: "West End Girls" by the Pet Shop Boys. He notes: "Growing up in rural Indiana, I embraced all things exotic and European, When I first heard the album Please, I loved the urban sounds and dreamed about the bigger world out there." Others described: "Miss You" by the Rolling Stones, "Boys Don't Cry" by the Cure, "Jump" by Van Halen and "Bodhisattva Vow" by the Beastie Boys.

My Niece's Songs: She listed "Crucify" by Tori Amos, "Where Are You Going" by the Dave Matthews Band" and "Fragile" by Sting. Also, the album OK Cumputer by Radiohead and listening to it "in front of a campfire, under the stars after being on the river in a canoe all day."

My Niece's Husband's songs: This artsy guy readily admitted that this exercise was "like asking what your favorite color or food is -- too many variables." So he provided plenty of diverse samples, such as: Viper House "Shed, Give it Up;" Amos Lee "Keep It Loose, Keep it Right;" Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong "Summertime; Alexi Murdoch "Orange Sky;" Arlo Guthrie "Alice's Restaurant" and more. He also noted Pink Floyd's "Great Gig in the Sky" (a song by his all time favorite band.

In time, music all rolls together as an eclectic playlist of who we are. Music is ageless, timeless and always full of surprises.

It's All Relative -- part 1, The Senior Class (excerpt from chapter 28)

Up to this point, I've provided snippets of the music inside my head. But I know I'm not alone in conjuring up vivid mental pictures when a certain songs rings in the air. I decided to take a little poll of some of my relatives of various ages and life experiences. Some of their thoughts follow:

My spouses songs: "Where the Boys Are" -- Connie Francis. "My mother loved Connie Francis and my younger sister and I would sing along and dance in the living room." "Our House" -- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. "The second house we bought that had two cats in the yard (in the lyrics), named Emily and Jaws."

My Mom's songs -- Age 89 as of this writing. "Stardust" by Hoagie Carmichael, popular when my Dad was in high school. She also noted "I'm in the Mood for Love" by Frank Sinatra.

My Dad's songs -- he really admired Johnny Cash's "Live At Folsom Prison" LP, particularly the tune "I Walk The Line."

My sister's songs -- "Misty" -- Johnny Mathis. She simply notes "our song" -- shared with her husband. Also "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In" by the Fifth Dimension as a recollection of watching her young daughter dance.

My brother-in-law's songs -- an interesting, eclectic '50s-'60s list including "She Cried" by the Lettermen ("haunting," he said), "Spinning Wheel" by Blood, Sweat, and Tears, "El Presidente" by Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass.

My sister-in-law's songs -- A huge Beatles fan, it was no surprise when she mentioned "A Hard Day's Night" and "All My Loving" as songs that instantly put her in a good mood.

Next, I needed to take this test another generation deeper....

In Honor of Genres (excerpt from chapter 27)

I suppose everyone can identify musical genres that we simply love to hate. This is music that we listen to, at various junctures in our lives, but somehow can never relate to. If you're a big fan of traditional country and western music, for example, chances are good that you don't become excited about rap music, contemporary jazz or opera. When an artist crosses over, experimenting with different musical forms, it could work well or it could fall flat. Sting and the Police merged reggae with rock quite seamlessly, for example. Emerson, Lake and Palmer were very much influenced by classical music in their rock compositions. The Dave Matthews band rocks but there are plenty of surprise elements of other genres inbedded in their songs. Yet these are giants, not those who pretend to be musically versatile.

Have you ever been totally misled by a song title or even the name of a band (for example, music by the group named Barenaked Ladies doesn't match in my head)? One of my wife's relatives once bought a single called "Hush," assuming it was a bedtime lullaby to play for her young daughter. When she brought it home, to her dismay, the Deep Purple tune was anything but a gentle sleep-time song. Deep Purple: one of the loudest rock bands in history. Genre confusion at work in our perceptions.

In my analysis of musical tastes, a search in ITunes uncovered 42 genres by their definitions. I expected rock, blues, jazz, but I also encountered "Disney." The annoying strains of "It's a Small World" instantly and once again invaded my mind. And "Spoken Word" as a genre? I'm thinking Arlo Guthrie's talking tale "Alice's Restaurant." Or maybe even (check this one out): Lorne Greene's "Ringo," a '60s chatty chartmaker from Bonanza's "Pa Cartwright." Other genre names were totally alien to me, namely Kayokyoku, Anime and J-Pop. I decided that I really didn't care for the sample cuts, or maybe just couldn't get a sense that they were an actual genre.

Okay, so everyone has specific tastes and favorites, but with an open ear we may just find something fresh outside of our element. It's like tasting a new food or seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time. Still, our prejudices about the music may emerge, now matter how hard we try.

Living With Our Music (excerpt from chapter 26)

In our homes, a comforting meal with good music is a special joy. I once discovered that Bon Appetit Magazine -- experts in fine cuisine -- also relate to food in song. "Food will always be our valentine," according to a piece in their February 2007 issue. The magazine recommended a "venerable collection of songs that celebrate the greatest love of all:" "Savoy Truffle," The Beatles; "White Pepper Ice Cream," Cibo Matto; "Do Fries Go With That Shake?," George Clinton; "Red, Red, Wine," Neil Diamond; "Vegetables," The Beach Boys; "Jambalaya," Hank Williams; and "Beans and Corn Bread," Louis Jordan. To their list I would add Steve Goodman's "Chicken Cordon Blues" and a '60s oldie by Jay & the Techniques called "Apples, Peaches, Pumpkin Pie."

In 1968, a The Ohio Express sang "Yummy, Yummy, Yummy, I got love in my tummy and I feel like a-lovin' you..." In about 1601, Williams Shakespeare wrote in Twelfth Night "If music be the food of love, play on..." Forgive me for quoting a bubblegum pop group and the great bard at the same time, but I couldn't resist. There is a strong correlation between music and food.

My intent in all of this is not to cause you to head for the refrigerator or nearest restaurant. Sorry if I did, because we Americans need to stick to our diets. Maybe it's time to jump on the treadmill to the pounding tune of the Bangles' "Walk Like An Egyptian" or the Romantics' "What I Like About You." Let the energizing music in our heads help us shed the pounds that the music with our food has helped create. Food for thought.