September Surrender: Day 7
What I’m Letting Go: Aural Archetype
I’ve always had a thing for music. I know, just like every other red-blooded American on earth. I’m not special in that regard, as music is truly one of those things that can unite us, as long as we wield our voices right.
I wrote about my music habits last year and I can report they haven’t really changed in that time frame. I still listen to the same songs over and over again in that one playlist, with a few songs added or subtracted. Lately, I’ve been listening to “Fast Car” on repeat, both the Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs versions. I never really appreciated how poetic the lyrics are, and it’s great to see such a wonderful song make a resurgence with the cover. For the past two days, I’ve been sitting outside just letting the song play over and over again. I could really feel what Tracy Chapman was going for all those years ago. The song evokes a sense of longing and inevitability if the timing is right. I sat there and almost couldn’t help wanting to cry. I felt it all catch in my throat each time the chorus rolled in, bringing the drumline along with it.
I have to discard the notion that I still can’t be affected by what my heart is also longing for. Just when I think I’m over how I feel, it all comes rushing back; I’m brought to feeling so overwhelming I can’t help but stop in my tracks. Perhaps I’ll never actually let go of how it all makes me feel, and the way things are being scored right now, I don’t want to. It’s the only thing that sounds real anymore.
What I’ve Discovered: Audible Betrayal
There’s always been a kind of “Satanic Panic” going on when it comes to certain kinds of music. People went crazy over death metal bands who really don’t try to hide they’re all in on the darker side of things. Most of the time, those people are putting on an act. What worries me is the stuff they hide in plain sight that slips past the average viewer just because it has a catchy beat.
I’ve always disliked music videos. I’d much rather listen to a song and form my own thoughts about it instead of being forced to view visuals that make very little sense. I also always thought there was something “off” about them. Like they weren’t produced by anything human. I don’t know where they came from, I don’t know who created them. All I know is these videos are just crazy, and it frightens me what’s being programmed into us from just one listen.
I was in an Uber back to Jersey last month. The guy was letting Spotify choose the music for him with a kajillion ads in between the songs. I wasn’t necessarily in the best headspace at that moment, so I just kind of ignored the crap coming out of the speakers and concentrated on writing. But then, the new Doja Cat song started playing. The one with the music video featuring her and the Devil. Basically confirming her status as someone who sold her soul to the Illuminati for fame and fortune. I may be a nutcase for reading too much into it, but something ain’t right when someone sings about the things she does. I plugged my ears and looked out the window, quietly humming to myself until I was confident the song was over.
I know how all this looks. I know how I come off sounding. But I don’t really care. I’ll go out of my way to avoid these otherworldly events where Masonic imagery takes center stage. If you don’t believe me, take a good hard look at the show The Masked Singer and tell me something like that is of God. Music can betray me if I’m not careful in what I’m listening to. I just want to make sure we’re all tuned into the right frequencies and all these hertz who serve a different master can just get the volume turned down indefinitely.
What I Hope to Find: Tuned In
Music is also incredibly important to my job. Morning shows have a different flavor to them, where we play music after our teases, so our viewers have a nice earworm all throughout the day. It’s my responsibility to choose the most upbeat tunes that have meaning to what I’m teasing, while remaining respectful and editorially responsible. All these tunes I have to choose leads to me walking around singing around the office, sometimes annoying my co-workers, but dang it, the song swelling in my heart simply cannot be ignored.
A lot of people don’t really get how important the music on the show is to me. I send signals with it all the time. I play a lot of love songs. The other line producer admitted to me she sometimes kills the pop at the end of the block just so she doesn’t have to log it after the show. I know she wasn’t trying to be mean and everyone got a good laugh out of it, but it’s still a thing that has meaning to me. So I choose her music for her to let her do what she wants with it.
I cannot write or read music. I was never properly trained to sing save a few lessons in my youth. I just know what sounds right. What sounds correct. What isn’t just catchy for the sake of catchy. I write here, others operate on another plane of existence where they can choose the right notes to make other things sound good. Perhaps one day I’ll find the accompaniment who understands the melody I carry, so we can find the synchronicity and blend in perfect harmony before taking the final bow.