They played my song?
It’s not possible, because I don’t have a song. I don’t have ten songs, or a hundred or even a thousand.
I have tens of thousands of songs –literally, on iTunes — and figuratively, in the sense that my collection is always expanding because music is always evolving, and because I constantly discover new sounds to listen to. Not a day goes by that I’m not on the hunt for a fresh track to make my own.
My love of music is deep, and traces its roots to my early childhood.
My father is a Missouri-born guitarist who once backed up country-music superstars like Jim Reeves and Ferlin Husky on traveling radio-show version of the Grand Ole Opry. I grew up listening to him, and to the musicians he liked: Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, Waylon Jennings and many, many more. I love classic Country & Western music still, and also admit to harboring a secret, somewhat embarrassing passion for cowboy music, songs like Tumbling Tumbleweeds, Ghost Riders in the Sky and Rawhide.
My mother, a Londoner and somewhat more refined in her tastes, loves classical music. She taught me to appreciate Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Rachmaninov, Chopin and many, many more. Even today, probably forty or more years from the day I first heard it, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata brings tears to my eyes. It is powerful music, expressive in ways that words can never be.
Somewhere along the way, I eventually discovered other types of music, including rock, pop, folk, jazz, reggae, American blues, Tejano, Flamenco, swing, electronica, Fado, and many, many more. I listen to it all, but particularly adore musicians like Neil Young, Tom Waits and Bob Dylan, who is the master songwriter of our times, as far as I’m concerned — the anti-Katie Perry, although much, much uglier and harder to dance to.
The only thing about music I don’t like is that I can’t make it myself, or not well enough.
I’ve always longed to be musician. I played the recorder and took piano lessons as a kid, and even took up the guitar in my teens, taking formal lessons to learn classical and jazz pieces at the same time I dabbled in heavy-metal music with my friends.
But I don’t have my father’s gift for music. I can’t keep a beat reliably, and I get so nervous playing in public that I forget chords and lyrics.
So I don’t play much anymore.
Still, at home, I’m never more than a few feet from the classical guitar I bought when I was 15-years-old. I love the look and feel of it, and I plan to pick it up and teach myself Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah as soon as I have more free time.
I don’t sing well, but maybe somebody out there who would appreciate hearing me play it. Maybe they’d say, “Hey, that’s my song.”
And I’d smile and say, “Yeah, mine, too.”
————————————————————
This is my third entry for the third day of 30 Days of Writing, a competitive blogging meme sponsored by those bastards my beloved friends Nicky and Mike at We Work For Cheese.
Please visit them for a list of all the participants, and then visit those folks, too, because I’ve had trouble finding time to do it myself this weekend and I feel wicked guilty. There are some top-notch writers doing this thing with me, although I question their intelligence because they agreed to waste their precious time on something so utterly meaningless.
Dylan, Waits, Young and Cohen. I think we must be twins. Nice piece Mike. My Dad was musical, too. Sang and played piano. I used to sing in rock groups as a teen but that’s long behind me now. As Chen sings “I ache in the places where I used to play.” Nowadays, that’s MY song.
You make me laugh, NoName. Yeah, I’m often stiff where I should be limber and limp where I should be stiff. Age is a bitch, dude.
You learn something every day. I had no idea about your father. Very cool. One of my late grandfathers played dobro and he and his brother tried to get on the Grand Ole Opry, I believe. They might have toured a little in North Carolina too
The dobro is a cool instrument that you don’t hear much. My brother-in-law had one, but I think he sold it. Beautiful thing, all chromed up.
Who names a child Waylon?
Your posts are a joy.
Probably somebody who’s a little drunk.
What an interesting upbringing you must have had and with your varied musical tastes, I’m glad you didn’t write this post as a rap!
I would love to learn to sing. Evil Twin giggles and tells me people will run away screaming when I sing.
I wish I’d thought to write it as a rap. Clever, Evil Twin, but please don’t break into song.
Singing badly never keeps me from singing. Playing badly should never keep you from playing! I love music! It’s art you can eat and sleep with!
Hah! Being tone deaf doesn’t keep me from singing, playing or whistling, as my entire family will tell you. And music is food, some days.
Wonderful post! I love to hear how people get their various tastes in music and I thoroughly believe that the music you are introduced to as a child can play a major role. When my kids were little, they heard all types of music and I like to think that it has helped expand their views. I too played the classical guitar as a teen, but I haven’t played in 20 years. I would love to hear you play “Hallelujah.”
Were you the Charro of your neighborhood?
My stepdad is a musician. Even though I never tried to play his varied stringed instruments, I think it changes your life having musical instruments around. They call to be played, to be tried and when you find one that suits you as soon as you pick it up, your life will never be the same. For me, it was a trumpet.
I loved reading this. You’ll have trouble topping this one in my book, Mike. This post is one of your best.
Oh, and I’m glad I youtubed Leonard Cohen. His voice is…stirring.
That song makes sense now. It always annoyed me before.
Cohen’s such an interesting man. An artist who never acheived the same sort of fame Dylan got even though he probably should’ve.
I totally agree with you, Liz. There’s something almost comforting about having instruments around. They look good, and there’s always this promise that something good will happen if somebody picks one up.
And thank you. I’m surprised you like this post so much, but thank you.
There have been a number of artists who have covered Hallelujah, but I’ve always been partial to Rufus Wainwright’s version. I would very much like to hear you play it. I have a feeling you’re better than you think you are.
Moonlight Sonata is one of the first songs I learned to play- badly- on the piano.
I award you 100 points for mentioning Rachmaninov. It’s not that I’m a huge fan or anything, but I like saying his name. Rachmaninov.
I understood that not many people like Racmaninoff – other than for the fact that he was the butt of many jokes in the (then) classical music community, but mostly because his shit was just too hard to play.
Lordy, I know, right? The dude was all over the keyboard.
I like both Cohen’s and Rufus’ versions, as well as k.d. lang’s recent pitch-perfect Olympic stunner. But I’m most partial to Jeff Buckley’s stretched-out guitar-based version.
Rachmaninov is a cool name. Please call me Rachmaninov from now on.
I don’t think there is much in the way of music that I don’t like. My iTunes collection is a real mixed bag. Music is in my bones, but something went wrong somewhere. I don’t have a good singing voice and I feel cheated.
I feel robbed, too, Babs. My paternal grandfather, one of my uncles and my dad were all blessed with innate talent but the music gene seems to have skipped over me.
It sucks a high hard one. Quote from my dad, “Well, no I can’t read notes all that well. It frustrated me as a kid because I could always play the song long before I could read the sheet music.”
“But if you’ve never read notes, how do you know the key before the music starts? Or the key changes?”
“I just know.”
“Even the minor ones?”
“I just hear it, Sweetie.”
“Whatever, I’m going to go practice my scales now.”
“Now why is that again?”
“To learn the all the different keys!!!” (Okay, and get first chair.)
“Oh, well have fun.”
Biggest eye roll possible.
Seriously? My best skill was sight reading music, and he doesn’t even effing need it. Ever.
That’s my dad. He just hears it and plays it. So maddening.
You expressed perfectly much about the way I feel about music. Music is such a personal and subjective thing, like you, I’d be hard pressed to actually find “a song”. Great post, Mike.
We need to form a band, Mike.
Mike, you don’t even tell the full story here. You were so advanced on the guitar as a teenager I remember you had to find an instructor in Denver. It is true we are a musically gifted family and I suppose this goes back to our hillbilly roots somewhere in the deep south where banjo picking relatives with no teeth sang songs about making soup stretch out for days on end. I am also certain they made this soup with squirrel meat.
I could have been a better violinist. I did not practice enough. I was too absorbed in varsity tennis and running. I was also distracted by a million interests rendering me full of knowing a little about a lot, but not a lot about anything. (Hence, unemployable) One thing I know for sure is this: Mike is brilliant. Mike will play his guitar again. And people will wonder why Mike has long fingernails on his right hand and if he is secretly half a cross dresser. Questions will swirl around such as: Does Mike paint those fingernails?
I sucked and you know it.
Please learn to play the banjo, Mike, and post videos. I’m pretty sure we have one amongst the guitars. I’ll mail it to you. Pinky swear.
Generally, rabbit is preferred over squirrel meat for soup.
I think the banjo is a little perky for me, but I wouldn’t mind having one. Like you, I just like having musical instruments around.
A nice post to read. I was never musically inclined. I played the drums for a bit, but nothing of note. Always wanted to play the piano, but never did. I’ve always been the listen to it sort of person. And God knows nobody need to hear me sing!
I know, because God came to me in a vision and said, “Hey, I don’t mean to be negative, but you don’t need to hear P.J. sing.”
Well, if you can eke out a fair rendition of “Hallelujah” on your geetar, maybe some of us cronies can provide the vocals? Now there’s a 30-day project in the making.
Still, it would be fun, eh?
Really, a great post – I can’t say that I have “my song” – but I can absolutely empathize with your feelings about music: It’s almost feeling and seeing it at the same time, even if one isn’t adept with musical instruments. It’s hard to put into words.
I wonder if it’d be possible to do something like that over the Internet. Sort of a “We Are the World” choir thing, but without any good intentions.
You question their intelligence because they agreed to waste their time on something so meaningless…I’m laughing out loud! It’s not a waste of time, we are working out minds, forcing it to create despite the fact that we may not want to….man I hope NIcky read that…
Totally made me miss those days when I was a kid and my dad sat on the floor in front of the record player, drunk out of his skull with a set of big-ass headphones on his head, belting out Johnny Cash and Charlie Pride (badly might I add)…can’t believe I’m nostalgic for that, but there you have it: dysfunction at its best.
Dysfunction was normal back in those days, and maybe still ought to be.
I think you should play Hallelujah for us.
Pretty please?
I love music so very much. And like you, I can’t possibly have just ONE song. Oh no. Also, I wish I was musically inclined. Luckily, my son is.
That is a great story. It is great that your parents taught you such an appreciation of music that you kept developing it. I have no musical talent to speak of. Rock, pop and disco are my top three, but there is something good in all genres.
I sympathize with your case of the guilts. The weekend are particularly hard to get around to everyone. Sorry!