Nothing I’m about to say is new. It’s not at all profound or original. In fact I’m sure it’s a repeat of the words that every music lover will have ever uttered a thousand times. Buuuut….
Music is the lifeblood of the soul. Doesn’t it just, get you? Between the eyes, in the back of the throat, with a slap across the face and right in the groin… It’s amazing how it can affect your mood. Reflect your mood. We all have our happy tunes, the ones you put on, on a bad day, when it’s raining, when the boss is moaning, when you burnt the tea, and the partners is driving you mad… and yet. It doesn’t matter; You’re out, on the tiles, your dancing in your head. Your singing your little heart out, with the biggest smile on your face. Without out it, we’d all be lost. What better expresses a feeling, an emotion, elation and depression, heartache and love…
A song can take you right back. To a time when you were a different you, to a moment you’d love to relive or rather forget. I’m writing this because walking along my coastline the other day, with my mum’s ipod on, there came a track. It came out of the blue and there I was, 14, dancing in the kitchen with mum, singing in the car, dancing in my mirror. I should be ashamed, it should be filed away with things you just never admit too, but I’m proud to say – I sung my heart out to the acoustic (that makes all the difference I promise you) James Dean – by the delectable Daniel Bedingfield. Oh yes.
“I wanna know if your busy, Yeah yeah, I wanna know if you’re doing anything tonight,
I wanna know if you missed me baby,I wanna know baby. I wanna know…”
Unashamed.com.
But that’s just it. It captured a specific time in my life and for me it’ll always be an iconic track however bad, or cheesy it is. However much I shouldn’t like it. Its like every one of your favourite bad songs, it’s a guilty pleasure. But that’s music…. Its individual.
Its art in at its very best. If it’s not a moment, or a feeling, a sensation or a mood, then its most certainly capturing a sentiment. Lyrics can somehow reflect your own story, touch you so close to home that it’s as though you wrote them yourself. They can capture something you didn’t think you could put into words. They can be poetic, or cheesy, sexual (more than likely) or sensitive. But they always a carry a meaning. They might not reach out to you, but they will somewhere. That’s the beauty of it. Lyrics are the literature of our generation, the memory board of the individual.
Erudite Reflections 