I Love You So
Today I was listening to a Radiolab episode about words and how language determins your thoughts. Not only that, but it almost seems that there are no thoughts before language is involved.
Evidently that is not true, but it does shed some light on why we don't remember all that much from our first, say, two or three years of our lives. (Conveniently that is exactly where all our major issues seem to be based when you visit a psychologist, but that is not important right now).
The best evidence opposing the theory is of course Music. With a capital M, yes. Although not word based, music is a language none the less. It can move you and revoke memories long forgotten. It can bring colour and happiness in your life without circumstance or predudice. My daughter's favourite album is Rubber Soul by the Beatles, as it was mine at their age. I did play it for them, but I never imposed it. They can choose to listen to whatever they like. A Hard Day's Night, Help, Revolver, Sgt. Peppers...
But seriously, I do try to give them access to a variety of musical styles, ranging from Mozart (and a little bit of Bach) to, well, perhaps not Lady Gaga (bless her soul), but surely contemporary stuff like, uhm, ...
Somehow we seem to be stuck in a rut, musically. We've lost our oomph.
The music we hear and make nowadays seems to either be a vague reflection of the past, or a superimposed rendition of what we once thought ought to be the future. All due respect to the arty aspect of the contemporary popculture, but why is it so hard to incorporate descent music in the process? How many people would have heard of Mozart if he had put on a powdery 17th century wig and rehashed some Palestrina tunes, with half the chords? I'm just sayin'.
Not to say that I am splitting atoms with my ditties, or that it is harmonically interesting whatsoever, but I get emails and request to listen to pianopieces, where I go and listen (I always do, I hope) and what I hear is I-IV-V, without melody, story, or urgence.
I don't get it.
Where did we lose our sence of identity?
Sure, if you make a road or a pie, you want it to be perfect. If you want to know the ten zillionth digit of Pi, go for it! But would you trust someone to do major surgery on you, who has read a reprinted Google translation of Aristotle?
The persuit of happiness is a wonderful thing, but is it really happiness that we are after? Shouldn't wonder, excitement, amazement and No,it can't be!! be much higher up our list?
My piece for today is rather dusty. Somewhat inspired by the Radiolab episode, where they they played some Bill Evans to oppose the Word-theory. None the less, it is what I felt at that moment, with all my shortcomings. Perhaps tomorrow I'll have a deeper insight...
Any comments and input are very welcome!
Thank you for enduring!