“Leviathan’s Tail”
When I cast myself out to sea,
I expected to face a tempest;
Instead, I found a calm route to
Nothingness; empty dissonance.
I was swallowed up by a creature
Larger than the great whale’s belly,
With walls indefinable; transparent,
But trapping. I followed a map like
Leviathan’s long tail, extending farther
Than the horizon, where Muse was left
To perish. When is our next Renaissance?
For whom have the history books’
Blank pages been predetermined?
I followed the songs of the Sirens, too,
Captivated by their melodies, led off course;
But rather than be consumed by monsters,
I was ignored; a meal left to rot in the sun.
I may not be a great sailor, but my adventure
Was still heroic. I only hope it does not
Inspire others to become lost at sea.
Did you fellow music-lovers read the All Songs Considered/NPR essay today about feeling overwhelmed with keeping up with new music?
Read: The Good Listener: Is There Too Much Music?
So freeing!
I can relate to the person admitting they want to take a break from music, enjoy silence, etc; and I love Stephen Thompson’s simple advice.
I often feel like a terrible music fan.
It’s not that I want to take a break from listening to music; it’s how selective I am. I get caught up in song or record, and I listen to it EVERY DAY for months. I don’t let any other sound invade my eardrums.
Natalie once told me an anecdote about our brother-in-law’s father, how he will put on a song on repeat and enjoy it all afternoon.
“Isn’t that an odd way to enjoy music?” Natalie asked me. I uncomfortably nodded my head, knowing, later that day, I’d be listening to REM’s “Daysleeper” in my headphones 15 times in a row, in secret.
* * *
I used to feel guilty about my obsession of limited, musical consumption. A songwriter and musician should enjoy an extensive catalogue, right? But I could chart out my entire life with a handful of records.
Here are some periods of my life where I was lost to one song or one album:
This month I’ve been overstimulating my eardrums with Chris Dupont’s Anxious Animal, specifically, the first song “House.” I have listened to it five times while writing this blog; seven times this morning while drinking coffee and reading the news.
Last spring, I lost myself to Nataly Dawn’s How I Knew Her. Three months of that one CD on repeat in my car, with extra repeats of the title track.
During my September tour? France Luke Accord’s song “In the Water“; 100s of repeats while commuting to gigs., including crossing the Mississippi River to play in Winona.
Two years ago, my friend Brian Walker recommended I listen to Nick Lowe’s “What Lack of Love Has Done” and I was lost to the world for weeks.
While endless listening to REM’s “Daysleeper,” I once missed my freeway exit and almost ended up in Ohio.
A summer semester of my sophomore year of college was completely dedicated to John Mayer’s Inside Wants Out.
The entire years of 2008, 2009, & 2010? City and Colour’s Bring Me Your Love. (Honestly, that CD hasn’t left my car for six years. I’m embarrassed every time Natalie borrows my car, knowing she will put the keys in the ignition and hear the CD playing, and wonder, “Not this again!”)
* * * * *
Today’s NPR essay has given me courage to publicly share my odd listening habits.
I love music so much. Just one song or record at a time.
“The Silver Maple”
In my backyard, a maple tree
Stands alone ignoring winter.
Its branches hold leaves
Like a coatless girl
Clutching the hood
Of an old sweatshirt
While running to the bus stop.
Am I the only one who finds
November difficult?
The sun sets before
I’ve prepared dinner,
But the night arrives
After I’ve caught a cold.
Then, I look out the window:
Instead of autumn leaves,
The ground is covered with snow.
Before I can ask,
“Who’s knocking at my door?”
Winter has let himself in,
And he plans to stay
Well past his welcome.
I am now resigned to this fact,
But I still feel sadness;
Even the maple tree
Must let go.
November 13, 2013
The sugar maple in my front yard has dropped all of its leaves. The tree in my backyard still has 40-60% of its silver maple foliage. Both trees will gracefully face winter, but the backyard tree needs a little more time.
Autumn days raking leaves is a great time to reflect about relationships, friends, jobs, art, family and life. Today, I wondered to myself, “Are you more like the front tree or backyard silver maple?”
* * *
PS: I love that my city of Ann Arbor does a tree inventories.
Today, I’m thinking a lot about Holly High graduates who joined the military and returned to my classroom to share stories of the war with me. My voice is too small to say anything about it except thank you for their service.
My grandfather survived the Battle of the Bulge, but never spoke of it with me. I’m still humbled, still bewildered by the facts of war; but those students who shared stories with me helped me understand my grandfather a little more clearly.
Little victories arise, when we don’t expect them.
