i really do love you, polly jean

"i don't know what silence means"



and then, at 2:48, that voice that cuts through with the lucid, purifying certainty of spring's first sunlight.

i dream. i dream.

that just bowls me over. she can sing with the old woman voice the whole way through, and the reason that it's not some lame artifice is that it leads up to, and makes possible, that moment.

secret weapons: new york dolls edition

that chugging, itchy riff; the way the placement of "trash!" makes the verse cycle a little bit frantic; unexpected majesty serving as the perfect frame for a defiant line like "'cause i don't know if i DO!" (btw, anyone else hear "white room" in that progression?): all awesome, necessary foreground elements, but the song would have a very, very different character if it weren't for those ghostly background vocals that kick in around 0:32.

having mulled it over, i think the power of this incidental element lies in the way it eludes defining, an enigma within the context of the rest of the music going on. is it eerie? is it pensive, gloomy? is it beautiful, like an angel hovering above the chaos?

there's a vitality to this kind of challenging incongruence; the song can effectively take on a new life with every listen ... and perhaps that, and not the obvious pleasures of the sugar on top, is actually the most compelling hook.

when the FM dial doubles your pleasure

two of classic rock radio's staple two-fers:

led zeppelin's "heartbreaker" will almost always precede led zeppelin's "living loving maid"

queen's "we will rock you" will almost always precede queen's "we are the champions"

and on the modern-fading-into-classic rock tip,

green day's "brain stew" will almost always lead into green day's "jaded"

there is intelligence to all of these pairings (consecutive songs on their respective albums, similar themes / natural transition). as such, i'm sure there has to be other instances where the double-play is basically a given, but i'm coming up a little blank as i rack my brain. i want to say that the beatles' "sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club band (reprise)" tends to segue into "a day in the life" when played on the radio, though i'm not sure if this happens all the time, so it will have to remain an honorable mention for now.

sometimes, progress marked and expressed in beautiful metaphors

my guitar teacher complimented my playing at our lesson the other day, observing that i'm no longer soloing "like [i'm] trying to get out of prison."

i feel like i tend to have on and off days when it comes to improvising expressively and effectively, and i think that i happened to be on an up day in this regard, though i will allow that the on days seem to be coming along a little bit more frequently. i was really struck by how easily that off-the-cuff analogy came to him, and how increasingly apt it seems as i think more and more about how i've sounded whenever i am deliberately trying to impress (the act of simply identifying those times represents a different but equally valuable path of learning).

i love that music is evocative to the degree that such symbolism can ring true on such a deeply innate level.