The power of music.
Discussion
I've just been in the kitchen, washing up. Random playlist running on my phone, the Cult come on, (Fire Woman I think) and I find myself rivetted to the spot in front of the sink, with tears running down my face.
The Cult were my best mates favourite band, we would often bounce around his sitting room, with the music turned to 11, trying not to spill beer on his carpet.
My best mate, Simon dropped dead just over 3 years ago from a massive heart attack, leaving a wife and 2 daughters. Every now and then it feels like I've been punched in the gut when I think about him. If I ever hear the Cult on the radio I stop what I'm doing and normally I smile, and think of all the fun we had, sometimes, like tonight, I sob like a child. I'm 56 years old ffs, I should be able to get over this.
Music can take you to all sorts of places.
The Cult were my best mates favourite band, we would often bounce around his sitting room, with the music turned to 11, trying not to spill beer on his carpet.
My best mate, Simon dropped dead just over 3 years ago from a massive heart attack, leaving a wife and 2 daughters. Every now and then it feels like I've been punched in the gut when I think about him. If I ever hear the Cult on the radio I stop what I'm doing and normally I smile, and think of all the fun we had, sometimes, like tonight, I sob like a child. I'm 56 years old ffs, I should be able to get over this.
Music can take you to all sorts of places.
I went to see Eric Clapton at the Royal Albert Hall in 1992. For those who don't know, his 4yr old son had died in an accident the previous year.
At one point, he explained that he'd written a couple of songs on an acoustic guitar during the bad times recently, and when he tried to put them on to an electric guitar, they just didn't work, so he'd appreciate a bit of silence whilst he played them. The songs in question were Circus (he'd taken his son to the circus the day before he died) and Tears in Heaven.
When he finished Tears from Heaven, there was absolute silence for what felt like minutes, until he leaned forwards to the microphone, and just said "thank you". Needless to say, the whole place exploded. I still get a lump in my throat thinking about it over half my lifetime later!
At one point, he explained that he'd written a couple of songs on an acoustic guitar during the bad times recently, and when he tried to put them on to an electric guitar, they just didn't work, so he'd appreciate a bit of silence whilst he played them. The songs in question were Circus (he'd taken his son to the circus the day before he died) and Tears in Heaven.
When he finished Tears from Heaven, there was absolute silence for what felt like minutes, until he leaned forwards to the microphone, and just said "thank you". Needless to say, the whole place exploded. I still get a lump in my throat thinking about it over half my lifetime later!
Oh yes, music, the power that lifts us and floors us in the same instant.
“Tears in heaven”, on the radio when driving home after leaving my amazing father at the hospital dead in bed many years ago. It took me years to be able to sing that song again. We shared similar broad music tastes, used to correspond in music that we thought each other would like. An old but current guy, the last song he ever sent me and said,”listen to this” at 80 years old was Adele,”Someone Like You”. I still have the email, and the sticky note from his computer screen when clearing that room out. Still hard to listen to.
Cooking dinner tonight after a few too many margaritas, I heard an old mate of mine on the radio, his voice clearly shallowed, breathy and f
ked by cancer on a song he released a few days before his death. “Something happened on the day he died”. You bet David, you fking bet it did. You should have seen it 
And then... nothing. Something totally unexpected, no previous association, no reason but so poignant and right for the moment just stops you in your tracks by its brilliance, totally unexpectedly.
We live our lives to it, as out hearts beat, every day, every life, different people, different songs, different genres, but the same depth of feelings, emotions and memories triggered by it.
Beautiful stuff.
“Tears in heaven”, on the radio when driving home after leaving my amazing father at the hospital dead in bed many years ago. It took me years to be able to sing that song again. We shared similar broad music tastes, used to correspond in music that we thought each other would like. An old but current guy, the last song he ever sent me and said,”listen to this” at 80 years old was Adele,”Someone Like You”. I still have the email, and the sticky note from his computer screen when clearing that room out. Still hard to listen to.
Cooking dinner tonight after a few too many margaritas, I heard an old mate of mine on the radio, his voice clearly shallowed, breathy and f
ked by cancer on a song he released a few days before his death. “Something happened on the day he died”. You bet David, you fking bet it did. You should have seen it And then... nothing. Something totally unexpected, no previous association, no reason but so poignant and right for the moment just stops you in your tracks by its brilliance, totally unexpectedly.
We live our lives to it, as out hearts beat, every day, every life, different people, different songs, different genres, but the same depth of feelings, emotions and memories triggered by it.
Beautiful stuff.
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