You don't know how precious you are.
I feel like talking about Dar Williams right now. This entry is going to be a long, rambly discussion of something I whole-heartedly adore.
You have been warned.
~
My discovery of Dar was a complete accident. Obsessed with the bizarre and obscure genre of filk at the age of 13, I found the lyrics of "The Christians and the Pagans" searching for the lyrics to a song about what happens when Pagan gods become drunk. (. . .I'm an odd person, and I was even odder in my early adolescence.) As I had always wanted there to be a song by that title, I ended up reading the lyrics, and later, (illegally) downloading the song. Looking for more lyrics by this mysterious person, I found three more gems - "Calling the Moon," "When I Was A Boy," and "Babysitter's Here." These I purchased through Audio Lunchbox, which I used to purchase "Out There Live" later on that week. It was a whirlwind romance between me and this music, which was genuinely, and I stand by this, some of the best music lyrically that I had heard at the time, and in terms of actual music, I was and always have been a complete sucker for powerful accoustic guitar riffs.
When I was fifteen, I saw her live for the first time at an opera house in New Hampshire.
It was perfect. I've seen her four times since, but that first time was perfect.
A month later, I saw her again, the day after the release of My Better Self . . .which is honesty not a very good album, with a couple of exceptions, but which means a great deal to me in terms of sentimental value simply because at that concert, I got to meet her, got to hug her, got to tell her how much her music meant to me, even though that's almost impossible to express. I probably came off as some incoherent teenage fangirl, but I'm glad of the opportunity to do so.
~
The best thing about Dar is that her music has grown with me. As I develop as a human being, I notice songs I didn't before, certain lines make more sense to me, and meanings open up. For example, the song "Fishing in the Morning" seemed kind of sappy and ordinary when I was 13. Now, realizing that the lyrics describe an inattainable idyllic situation that the narrator would like to accomplish but cannot, I can't listen to it without feeling at least slightly crushed. When I was younger, my favorite songs were the ones mentioned above - I liked the simple sentiments of togetherness, whimsy, equality, and the slightly more complicated feeling of wanting desperately to commune with nature, but not being very good at it. Don't get me wrong, I still love those songs(as well as the more rebellious songs I obsessed over a year later - "Teenagers, Kick Our Butts" and "Are You Out There") and "The Babysitter's Here" is one of things that will always, always make me start crying, but as I age, the more emotionally complex songs have essentially revealed themselves to me, particularly "Iowa", which has a strange cheerful melancholy to it that I adore, and "After All," which speaks for itself in utter beauty.
I could easily chart my emotional growth from 13 on through her music.
Play on, Dar, and thank you.
You have been warned.
~
My discovery of Dar was a complete accident. Obsessed with the bizarre and obscure genre of filk at the age of 13, I found the lyrics of "The Christians and the Pagans" searching for the lyrics to a song about what happens when Pagan gods become drunk. (. . .I'm an odd person, and I was even odder in my early adolescence.) As I had always wanted there to be a song by that title, I ended up reading the lyrics, and later, (illegally) downloading the song. Looking for more lyrics by this mysterious person, I found three more gems - "Calling the Moon," "When I Was A Boy," and "Babysitter's Here." These I purchased through Audio Lunchbox, which I used to purchase "Out There Live" later on that week. It was a whirlwind romance between me and this music, which was genuinely, and I stand by this, some of the best music lyrically that I had heard at the time, and in terms of actual music, I was and always have been a complete sucker for powerful accoustic guitar riffs.
When I was fifteen, I saw her live for the first time at an opera house in New Hampshire.
It was perfect. I've seen her four times since, but that first time was perfect.
A month later, I saw her again, the day after the release of My Better Self . . .which is honesty not a very good album, with a couple of exceptions, but which means a great deal to me in terms of sentimental value simply because at that concert, I got to meet her, got to hug her, got to tell her how much her music meant to me, even though that's almost impossible to express. I probably came off as some incoherent teenage fangirl, but I'm glad of the opportunity to do so.
~
The best thing about Dar is that her music has grown with me. As I develop as a human being, I notice songs I didn't before, certain lines make more sense to me, and meanings open up. For example, the song "Fishing in the Morning" seemed kind of sappy and ordinary when I was 13. Now, realizing that the lyrics describe an inattainable idyllic situation that the narrator would like to accomplish but cannot, I can't listen to it without feeling at least slightly crushed. When I was younger, my favorite songs were the ones mentioned above - I liked the simple sentiments of togetherness, whimsy, equality, and the slightly more complicated feeling of wanting desperately to commune with nature, but not being very good at it. Don't get me wrong, I still love those songs(as well as the more rebellious songs I obsessed over a year later - "Teenagers, Kick Our Butts" and "Are You Out There") and "The Babysitter's Here" is one of things that will always, always make me start crying, but as I age, the more emotionally complex songs have essentially revealed themselves to me, particularly "Iowa", which has a strange cheerful melancholy to it that I adore, and "After All," which speaks for itself in utter beauty.
I could easily chart my emotional growth from 13 on through her music.
Play on, Dar, and thank you.