Music
The main feature of the music site is a blog called “Words That Sing”. It will feature predominantly the works of songwriters (many of whom both write and sing their own music.) There will be a weekly release on Fridays and occasional “pop-ups”. The programs will be 30-45 minutes in length and will have themes based on the choice of songs played for your enjoyment.
Just FYI, a “song” is generally considered to be a piece of music combined with words. Some use the term more loosely to include “instrumentals” as well. We will talk about variations on that theme including the idea that some actually think that melodies and notes actually “Talk”—stay tuned for that.
Is music the international language? Some have made that claim. For me it hardly matters. It “speaks” to me in more ways than I can express. In this site I propose to talk with you about my great passion. One friend has taught me how to listen to Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony; another drenched me in all his favorite singer-songwriters; I used to close out my late nights with “Music From the Hearts of Space” on public radio; I grew up in the sixties with a TV show “Hootenanny” featuring all the greats of “folk music”; my Mom played an album called “A Festival of Light Classical Music” to me and my little brother; I sang in choirs and glee clubs; I played guitar and sang around campfires. The list goes on and on.
These things inspired me and taught me much about life. Come share with me.
Words That Sing
Is music the international language? Some have made that claim. For me it hardly matters. It “speaks” to me in more ways than I can express. In this site I propose to talk with you about my great passion. One friend has taught me how to listen to Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony; another drenched me in all his favorite singer-songwriters; I used to close out my late nights with “Music From the Hearts of Space” on public radio; I grew up in the sixties with a TV show “Hootenanny” featuring all the greats of “folk music”; my Mom played an album called “A Festival of Light Classical Music” to me and my little brother; I sang in choirs and glee clubs; I played guitar and sang around campfires. The list goes on and on.
These things inspired me and taught me much about life. Come share with me.
Lyrics are Poetry
I am addicted to songwriters and their creations. They combine poetry and music that gives the listener an experience that is a unique art form. Neither would be the same without the other. Unfortunately, most folks do not seem to listen very intently thereby missing the lyrics. For many of us most music is merely background for our lives. That phenomenon is sometimes called “ambient” music—the kind one might hear in an elevator or a restaurant, or even the supermarket. That is a shame. It is not just songs that serve this purpose but even great classical music suffers from us poor listeners.
One of the purposes of this small piece is to encourage more attentiveness to music of all forms. Art of all genres can save our lives. It in fact is a part of the earthly beauty that we sometimes take for granted. We do so at our personal peril.
I will start with this rather bold statement. The best lyrics from talented songwriters are very fine poetry. Why do I say that? I have spoken with people close to the songs who say an emphatic “No”! One publisher, when I told him my plan for a book, dismissed the idea with this terse response. “Lyrics are meant only to be sung.” Please read my short rebuttal. Here are several themes that I am using in a larger work to demonstrate the quality of some of my favorite writers: Wisdom, Stories, Love, and Wonder which I follow with Determination and a Benediction.
I will present only the lyrics, at first, one from each theme. When we have spent some time in which I ask you to read and ponder the verse, I will offer some of my own thoughts. They are no more superior than those that arise for you. I choose to teach rather that dictate. Perhaps we might share some of those in the future. Then, and only then, I will ask something more of you—listening to the song. My hope is that you will begin to see the magic that lyrics and music create when they are merged, when other senses become involved in the experience. When song enters your conscious mind. Explore your feelings. For you, is the music a good match. Does it enhance the poetry you have experienced? Are they more than you might have expected? Do you find yourself wondering what the process of composing was like? If you choose to do so (and I hope that you will). Return to some of the verse that you particularly liked. Can you see/hear the conversation that is going on. They are not separate things—they joined in the artist’s head. They may be rational thoughts, descriptive, or ephemeral as much art is.
I recently read a book by a former museum attendant who, after years of spending his days in the presence of great art, learned to “see” it differently—he taught me to do so as well. Perhaps the reader might come to experience the art of song that way.
David Mallett: A Celebration
You might be saying, what right have you, an old Southern boy from South Carolina, to be writing this piece. I have only one answer: I claim it. I never “knew” him personally, but I know him. Almost thirty years ago, I attended the Kerrville Folk Festival. I encountered some of the best songwriters in the country, both some that I was familiar with and some brand new. I heard David with the stars of Texas upon us. He was as good as I had ever heard, music and lyrics. The next day, in a grove of tall pines, I sidled on over and told him how his music had affected me. He was gracious and kind. I asked, “where are you from?” He gave me an enigmatic smile and said, “that is an interesting question. Until recently, that was not as clear as it is right now. I have been living and working out of Nashville. I have decided to go “home” to Maine.”
I looked further into his musical portfolio and discovered “The Garden Song” (I grow several varieties of heirloom tomatoes), and so many other treasures. For weeks I consumed his music, bought many CD’s, and yearned to hear more live concerts. But Maine was fourteen hours away. Years went by, but I had my albums. Providence finally arrived. A friend had family contacts in Maine. Her sons had inherited a house in Boothbay, not just any dwelling; it was actually ON, not next to, the water--an old lobster dock. We went once and then again, finally driving through the gorgeous countryside, eating tons of lobster rolls and haddock sandwiches and Damariscotta oysters. Later we visited Blue Hill and miracle of miracles, David was playing the opera house in Stonington. We got tickets and not only swooned among a group of true Mainers but discovered one of the most charming spots on the whole coast.
David was great, soon to turn seventy and his voice had only grown richer and more expressive. Listening to his newer albums I saw that his lyrics, always very fine, had begun exploring the heights and depths of the human experience. I got to know a true patriot, a man of the people. If you know him or think you do, feel free to disagree with my characterization. Listen to “Celebration” and experience the range of problems and conditions that we face as fellow humans and as fellow citizens He asks us to help build a “better nation”.
An anecdote. On Thursday the 19th of December I was writing and trying to decide what to listen to—my brain suggested one of my songwriter “friends”. David’s name immediately came to mind. As I listened, I decided to see where he was playing these days. I put his name into the search engine, and you know what popped up. Already in a bad mood, I was devastated. I began to grieve as if he had been a close friend. That is the power of music—especially from the best songwriters. I shall miss him greatly—I can only imagine how the Mallet Brothers and the rest of the clan must be feeling.
Mainers have lost a treasure. The David Malletts do not come along as often as I would wish. I have his albums for solace but will always wish for more intimate live performances. That conversation in the Texas pines will just have to suffice. And so “inch by inch and row by row”, note by note and word by word, David Mallett has created a veritable Garden of Song which each year has continued to provide a harvest that has only grown in quantity and quality.
At this Christmas season, his passing says to us that we should remember him in the words of tiny Tim: “God bless us every one.”