The Call of Music, part 1. · 5:24pm Sep 19th, 2015
In the previous blog, i briefly mentioned two big influences, that of shadowrun, and the other, music. Music, is and always will be my choice of drug. Most of the love, came well, as a measure of solace. For many folks. A songs a song, and I get it it, even if I don't. Because my senses don't work like most peoples. I've been falsely labelled, misdiagnosed, and a variety of other things on that, but its, again, another topic for another day.
I found my love of music early, when my senses, sociological, and social, decided to go off the beaten path like a cougar going after a limping rabbit. They've yet to return, as well. Though the musics stayed. But in that tumultuous time that is called middle school, and even from the edges of grades 4-5, to high school. I was the quintessential loner. And being about 6'3" and taller than a good chunk of the teachers, and angry, well. I learned to hate, all too well. Hate as a shield, hate as a weapon, hate to endure the mockery and challenges. I knew hate as a brother, one of blood, bone, and bled for it. I planned with revenge, hungered with perceived 'justice' at a chance to get even with all who wronged me.
Yet, where I was taking my life with help from my home as a navy brat. I was also running into the nature of things as the school, and by proxy, both teacher/students were finding me with ways to 'ensure' i was not an issue. It didn't work. But in this, I found two truths that helped me. My utter loathing for silence, true artificial silence. (There is a difference between natural and artificial) And my love of music to cope. To put the beast, and leviathan that was my anger then to placid sleep. A saving grace of the thing that I call a childhood from a broken home. My parents were those whom respected music. And in some small way, they did manage to teach that to me, when all I did was fight like a rabid wolverine at anything that crossed my path.
Yet, my parents had a love of the old songs of that era, the 60's and the 70's. The classic rock of yesteryear, and many eclectic groups. By then, with the above, it had shifted to a point of me against everyone. The only people I remotely trusted were the cats we had. They left me alone, after the usual yelling I could ignore. Gave me a tv, entertainment system, stuff to keep me away from the usual 30 minutes of glaring silence that was interaction for them. And so, left to my own devices, I was happy. I didn't have confrontations, but got to enjoy what I was slowly picking up. Music, such as it was. I played the stereo like a madman, watched mtv, (when it was music) vh1, (when it was the same.) And the many tapes, records, vinyls, cds, and 8 tracks they had.
And it stopped the anger, for a time. They'd fuss and complain, by then, it was wrote muscle memory. But the vitriol wasnt fully there. And so, they let me spend the day quietly do this. And for a while, I was happy. Fast forward to high school, a new place, and a new face. I managed to avoid the worst of my pitfalls from before, yet, I wouldn't have friends really. And all too many enemies. But for while I endured. One year, I found the spark that really brought about the love of music.
Steve Wacholz. A very distant relation, but if the name rings a bell, congrats to you. Or even if i've managed to get you to google it. But I was living with my grandmother at that time, after the car accident. She smiled, when I found their little cd in a bookstore bin for sale. And loved it, by then, we still didn't know what was truly wrong with me, though we later did. But she recalled the name, and managed to call up his sister, and well. I actually got meet the man, and get a rare demo tape of them live. (The tape sadly no longer works out of use) But in meeting the guy, I got to really just smile and where everything clicked musically. I get why folks are die hard fans for some groups, especially if they get to meet the people. I do.
But he helped cement the love of everything, and I love him for it. But really, I know its been more about my history than music, and for that, well sorry. But the context I needed to impart, if only the cliff notes version. Music is a story to me. I hear the sorrows, the laughter, the kindness, the rage and the anger. It flows from each song to a suite of a bard in the recollection. I can smile at a good note. Be lifted up at a rough time from another. Cry in frustrations shared. I know how the story ends, yet, I can be there. I can exist in that note, step by step, until it ends in reverberation. I hear what is unsaid, what is implied, because to my ears. It is a cautionary tale. A work of someone who has learned the harsh lessons of life.
I can look to a song like, Dunnerkirk and the Gypsy and hear a story of a man whom life has taken everything, yet stands tall. Of those whom he confided in, his legacy, and to hear the passion in the voice of the singer. Has it been sung, yes, many a time, for songs like this. Yet, the dance of every instrument plays its part in the tale as much as the lyrics. It is simple, a paced march of the common man's instruments. It is not given with the trappings of civilization, but that which is of simple folk.
Even tongues I do not understand, have their ways. Nordman Om Gud Var Jag is again, clear in lyrics to really what it tries. But in his voice, there's a quivering note, a loss of something as he sings this. It sits in a quiet discordant echo, But sit, eyes closed, and listen. Getting to the horror of a song translated: Skula Skorpa Skalk by Falconer When or if you look up the translations, its horrible, yet for that wrongness, there is beauty in the language, tone, and what the singer sings with. You need only stop and listen in a different means.
And if anything I hope I've brought something of a new look to music. And when you listen.. just let the tone.... cascade...
Actually, it's really interesting to see the what kind of place music has in other people's lives and to compare it with myself
Many, many folky songs like that have lyrics with stories about the unfairness of life in medieval times
Oh, and thanks for introducing me to some awesome Scandinavian music