All posts filed under: music & lyrics

Lyrics write my world

Lyrics mean everything to me. It’s my poetry, and the soundtrack for 75% of my day. When I was little, my parents controlled the car radio. No form of begging would sway them from switching the station or ejecting that Roy Orbison tape (I truly despise his voice to this day). My yellow Sony walkman, hiply decorated with Super Mario Brother stickers, was my saviour half the time  – I had to share with my brother. Driving in the car, my parents would join forces, mocking our 90’s musical taste. From the front seat they exercised their parental power, laughing while mimicking the incoherent lyrics. “The music you kids listen to nowadays is just dreadful” says my father. “Ya, I mean, it’s all just rap crap!” my mother would cheerfully chirp in, “They just mumble through the lyrics! I have no idea what they are saying!” And so my musical taste has been greatly swayed not by the vibe, or the beat — but the words. The story. The poetry flowin’ through the tune. well, Grace …

Paul Simon: The Obvious Child

I’m accustomed to a smooth ride Or maybe I’m a dog who’s lost it’s bite I don’t expect to be treated like a fool no more I don’t expect to sleep through the night Some people say a lie’s a lie’s a lie But I say why Why deny the obvious child? Why deny the obvious child? And in remembering a road sign I am remembering a girl when I was young And we said these songs are true These days are ours These tears are free And hey The cross is in the ballpark The cross is in the ballpark    

Move pen move, write me a mountain

When I first came across the song, Move Pen Move, a calibration with singer-songer writer, Dan Mangan and spoken word poet, Shane Koyczan, I listened to the song on repeat for one week (true story) until my friend yelled at me, “Stephanie, turn that $#*%@ song off!” It’s true. I needed an intervention. over the years it seems that aging’s just not for me. though i ache just below the knees and it flows to my heart and all through the hearts i need. it’s not how it ought to be. you’re falling away from me. and it’s just not right. falling away from me. it’s not right. but you make such beautiful words. now it’s trying. oh, how it’s tragic. but you make such beautiful words.

Hey Rosetta!, Bandages

Lyrics: It will come around but everything is now I know everything is right now The loneliness is a lot But the nothing weighs a ton I mean the nothing weighs a fucking ton That half of the bed Empty like a page Of the curses claims you’ve yet to make Oh, the promising light Bending like a spine Or the whiteness that your pen could write

Mumford & Sons

I’m not a fan of music videos, mostly because the visual story in my head is much better than what the video delivers;  I mostly stick to live performances when surfing YouTube. This live Mumford & Sons video is absolutely beautiful! The energy the band brings mixed with the romantic set design gave this little lady goose-bumps. Turn up the volume and check it out! S.

The importance of buying art

I grew up with music: Michael Jackson, Roy Orbison and The Beatles. A lot of my musical influences came from my aunt Teresa, who would drop what she was doing to take us kids to the store to buy the latest CD and was forever treating us to musical theatre productions. I don’t think a waking hour goes by that I’m not listening to music. Turning on music is the first thing I do in the morning (even before I start  the coffee machine). It’s the backdrop to my time spent daydreaming, writing and reflecting. Years ago when Napster crashed and iTunes showed up on the scene, I made a conscious decision that I would always pay, not steal art. I came across this great quote from The Lumineers’ Facebook page two days ago and I thought I’d share it: I bought Bjork a cup of coffee yesterday! …well, not really. But, I did buy her album, Medulla, one of my all time fav’s. Consider this: We live amidst the generation of ‘music lovers’ that are …

Oh fortune

Oh fortune, Dan Mangan  Oh fortune, Bring Fortune, To spare. Times passing, And we’re worsing, for wear. Aching for breathable air, And, oh my god it’s killing me. Oh chances, Oh forces, of luck. Feels arid, windows boarded, Enough. Lord, let those skies open up. Powers that be, forsaken me. Oh choices, bring voices Resound. Please be merry, when I am buried, In the ground. Nice to have the kids around. Oh my god, it’s killing me.