Music is one of the purest forms of art. It can uplift our spirits or it can send them into a downward spiral. Music is the one thing that I have always connected deeply with. It is the one thing that I can always relate to with ease. I have used music most of my life as a form of communication. That may or may not be a good thing, but it is my thing. It is my niche. We all have our favorite songs, our favorite albums and our favorite bands. We all feel the ecstasy that is hidden in the movement of music. It is euphoric in its euphony. Music is the vessel that carries us away from the pain. It can also sail us back in the direction of where the pain originated. It has always amazed me that one simple lyric can make or break your entire mindset for the day.
Why do I communicate with music more than I should?
It has often echoed through my mind that it could be something lodged in my subconscious from the first time I watched the movie “Say Anything” when I was a mere twelve years old. The scene when Lloyd held up the boom box while blasting Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” for Diane at the butt-crack of dawn moved me to tears. That scene really did its part to position me into the hopeless romantic that I was for so many years and still show signs of being from time to time. If I am not mistaken that was Cameron Crowe’s directorial debut. He has always held an ability to compound his message in the most romantic yet man-grounded way, which is something that I admire. Crowe’s “Almost Famous” is one of the most original and soul-satisfying movies of our generation.
When it comes to communicating with music, I would round it up to the nearest value of thought that the reason why I enjoy sharing songs that I connect with is simple. It is because of the subtle romantic process that creates feeling behind the lyrics of all the things I have ever wanted to say to someone. The things I didn’t know how to say with the same oomph, so to speak. The things I am now learning how to say, with said oomph.
Music is a relationship within itself. The notes, the beats, the lyrics, the succession of sound, they all interconnect to produce a composition that breathes unity and continuity. The social organization of the world could learn a valuable lesson from the movement of music. It has the ability to speak to us in ways that words cannot. It takes deeper than just ordinary experience. It has always supported us through the up’s and down’s in this labyrinth of life. It is an unsullied form of transcendence.
Music arrives in our hearts and trickles through our veins headed towards the brain. Once it arrives in our mind we begin to make sense of the melody, the harmony, the rhythm and the form. By eliciting these anticipations, music withdraws the deepest levels of our emotions. Music is the corona that blends the light with the dark and creates compassion within us all.
Music provides the mind with careful ordered experience—a perfectly placed movement and the bliss beneath it. In daily routine, the mind does its best to make sense of the world and its displaced order. It easily finds the superficial associations among the objects it encounters. Music allows us the ability to escape these superficial objects that encircle us and find freedom in the beauty of a simple melody. Or it could be a lyrical verse that rearranges the soul and points it in the direction of our dreams. Either way, music is a vessel that we should hope to be able to board for life’s eternity.
Music makes us more than we really are, and the world more orderly than it really is. We respond not just to the beauty of the continuous deep relations that are revealed in music, but also to the fact of how we perceive them. Our mind is thrown into overdrive and we feel our very existence expand and recognize that we can be more than what we really are, therefore the world is more than it seems. This alone is proof that movement in music is in fact, ecstasy.
What I love about music is that sometimes in a song that you’ve never heard everything about yourself begins to make sense.
Steve Mason / Lost And Found