Midnight Crazy Writing

Disclaimer:  Wrote this in a late night free thought style, so I accept no responsibility for what it says. Srsly.


I’m sure there was a meme running around at one time that asked what album would be “the soundtrack of your life”, or something along those lines. The one record that would go with you on your desert island; the only music you could listen to for the rest of your life. I realized tonight that mine would have to be La Volee D’Castors Par Monts et Par Vaux. I know I’m a sucker for folk music, but the songs on here have spoken to me from the first time I heard them, even though my French is more than rusty. There’s music for dancing, for digging in the garden and hanging clothes on the line, for making tangled passionate love, and when heartache and disappointment are threatening to rip you apart. I can’t listen to the opening song without wanting to dance- around other people I’ll bob my head and tap my feet, but when I’m alone in my room I throw my arms in the air, whip my hair wildly around and let my hips pound out the beat.

I tried explaining to Allison today that when I listen to music more often than not the lyrics fly right by me; I’m focused on the music itself- the changes, the rhythms, how it feels in the back of my head and the pit of my stomach. Every now and again there will be one particular piece that will grab you, either lifting you to your feet or putting your heart in your mouth with a joyful sort of ache. Perhaps this is where one could use the phrase “exquisite pain” without sounding like a sadist. Some music is just so riveting that it latches onto your soul and forces you to feel, demands that you make a return with emotion. Of course there are plenty of songs that are nice to listen to and don’t have this sort of pull, but when you feel the tide of something threatening to roar out of you like a peal of thunder if you don’t give in and ride it, then you know the music has reached in to the deepest part of you.