(no subject)
So over the last few days I downloaded a compilation of the "500 Best Rock and Roll Songs" (not the Rolling Stone list, to my disappointment, but nearly identical). Since this is such an enormous amount of music, most of which I will never actually listen to, I decided to put it on while I went to sleep.
I listened to some songs, on random, for a while during which time I wrote and put everything to the back of my mind except my writing (which, I suppose, si what you're supposed to do). But when I went to sleep something remarkable happened.
The music began to permeate my dreams in ways that I cannot totally remember or recall except on a purely emotional level. I slept well, because I woke up rested (earlier than I had planned, so I had to go back to sleep to get my full eight hours in) and feeling good. But at one point during the night, while the sun was not yet peaking over the horizon and all was dark, I awoke to a song which I had never heard. I was terrified, swimming up out of the dream state. I don't remember the song, nor exactly why I was so scared, but part of me felt like the Devil himself was speaking to me. My heart quickens just thinking about it, recalling the emotion.
Of course, I would probably not have thought twice about the song had it not been playing in my sleep. It did not cause a nightmare that I am aware, but the beat, the rhythm, the lyrics and how they were sung pulled me out of my dreams and chilled me. I don't think I've ever had that happen before, and I wonder what can be garnered from this emotional revelation? How do we stereotype our music? How often do we enjoy it with a conscious mind, labelling and defining it beyond all meaning? When is the last time that a song has terrified you? Has it ever?
Why should music not be a terrifying experience? Or a blissful one? Or anything in between? For some people, I suppose, it can be. For me, only now maturing musically into some kind of understanding of the process and the energy behind it, envious of musicians because I feel inadequate in that area, my brain only beginning to comprehend the language of music, I have to wonder if I am just now awakening (metaphorically and literally) to the experiences that everyone else has had.
I listened to some songs, on random, for a while during which time I wrote and put everything to the back of my mind except my writing (which, I suppose, si what you're supposed to do). But when I went to sleep something remarkable happened.
The music began to permeate my dreams in ways that I cannot totally remember or recall except on a purely emotional level. I slept well, because I woke up rested (earlier than I had planned, so I had to go back to sleep to get my full eight hours in) and feeling good. But at one point during the night, while the sun was not yet peaking over the horizon and all was dark, I awoke to a song which I had never heard. I was terrified, swimming up out of the dream state. I don't remember the song, nor exactly why I was so scared, but part of me felt like the Devil himself was speaking to me. My heart quickens just thinking about it, recalling the emotion.
Of course, I would probably not have thought twice about the song had it not been playing in my sleep. It did not cause a nightmare that I am aware, but the beat, the rhythm, the lyrics and how they were sung pulled me out of my dreams and chilled me. I don't think I've ever had that happen before, and I wonder what can be garnered from this emotional revelation? How do we stereotype our music? How often do we enjoy it with a conscious mind, labelling and defining it beyond all meaning? When is the last time that a song has terrified you? Has it ever?
Why should music not be a terrifying experience? Or a blissful one? Or anything in between? For some people, I suppose, it can be. For me, only now maturing musically into some kind of understanding of the process and the energy behind it, envious of musicians because I feel inadequate in that area, my brain only beginning to comprehend the language of music, I have to wonder if I am just now awakening (metaphorically and literally) to the experiences that everyone else has had.