Well, this isn't music related. I was looking through my old papers on my computer and stumbled upon this poem I wrote just under a year ago. I liked it, and I thought you guys might, too.
I Felt it Briefly
I felt it briefly
When I opened my eyes
As the stars settled below the horizon
And the sun peeked through the trees
I smiled and sighed
You opened your eyes
And looked at me as if for the first time
My mind flooded
Awash in the hurricane of memories
And I felt it briefly
What time is it?
Does it really matter?
Seconds slip by as I drift
Through a sea of thoughts
And I felt it briefly
I didn't say anything
Overcome by a foreign feeling
A feeling I'd lost long ago
And as I gently shut my eyes
I felt it briefly
Reclamation of mind
Resurgence of emotion
Awoken out of their dormant slumber
I couldn't help but laugh
And I felt it briefly
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place - Explosions in the Sky
So, I've been planning this review for ages, but have been putting it off for...well, ages. Not for lack of motivation or time, but for lack of understanding and insight. This particular album seems to elude not only my standard review process, but also the words with which to review it. You see, most music works like clockwork for me; it's practically mechanical, and therefore can be mentally dismantled and analyzed. Piece by piece, I dissect and scrutinize, gaining understanding. But this album is more organic. It's complex. It's layered. Every part is seamlessly intertwined with the next into a woven, comprehensive, unified piece that defies most attempts to isolate individual sections. As such, I may need to devise a new system by which to judge this piece. While I could certainly sit here for hours and wax poetic about how incredible this album is, I feel an album of this stature deserves an insightful, informative review that goes beyond, “ZOMG, THIS ALBUM IS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!1111one1! IT'S THE BEST *DROOL*.” And believe me, that's really all I want to do. But, with said daunting task in front of me, determination inside me, and frigid beer next to me, I will attempt to do justice to an album that rightfully sits in my top three albums of all time.
The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place by Explosions in the Sky
What exactly does that mean, The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place? According to Al Gore, the Earth certainly is not getting colder, and I haven't had to put The Zombie Survival Guide to good use yet, so the world couldn't be dead (or undead), either...although, saying I'm somewhat excited to kick some zombie ass is somewhat of an understatement...ANYWAYS, we're clearly dealing with the figurative meaning behind this phrase...obviously...sorry to insult your intelligence for the sake of my awful jokes. EITS have set forth the postulation that the world is not cold nor dead, and therefore must be warm and alive. Vibrant, beautiful, dynamic. I'll delve further into that notion later, but with this in mind, let's jump in. And if you actually intend to listen to the album while you read the review, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, put on a decent pair of headphones. You'll miss out on so much without them. This is the kind of music that easily justifies buying a $200 pair of Sennheisers.
First, let's look at the story and meaning in the album. Consider, for a moment, the first track. Easily one the the most beautiful, intense, passionate songs I've ever heard, "First Breath After Coma" is far and away my favorite song on the album, partially because it has some special meaning to me, but mainly because it lays the groundwork for the album. The title tells you exactly what is going on: someone has just woken up. Whether that is literally from a coma, or they've just had some startling revelation, I'm not sure, but I'm more inclined to go with the former. The opening guitar is like an EKG hooked up to a coma patient. The pounding bass drum is instantly recognizable as the person's heartbeat. The EKG soon starts picking up as the person becomes reanimated, and the guitar switches to sixteenth notes, their body emerging from standby. The bass guitar and second guitar come in as the person opens their eyes. They take things in, they remember who they are, where they are, and life begins to well up inside them. I won't go on for the whole song like this, but you literally get the picture. The music paints the scene for you BETTER than any lyrically-based song I've encountered. It builds and falls and builds and falls, rising and crashing like the sea.
In fact, the whole album rises and falls. You can liken it to anything you want: love, friendship, work, your lot in life. Ultimately, it comes down to this: It's alive. It's breathing. Flashback to the title, anyone? Add to that the mostly major chords pulsing through this sucker, and you've got warmth. Love. Whatever. Don't believe me? Listen to "Your Hand In Mine". Two guitars working so perfectly, intertwining, interlocking...kind of like two people holding hands? Sappy? Sure. Genius? Definitely.
Quite honestly, I haven't experienced emotion of this magnitude from instrumentals...no, scratch that. I haven't experienced emotion of this magnitude from music in general since I saw Mozart's Requiem performed. I seriously put these guys up there with Mozart. This is riveting, moving, emotionally charged music that lets nothing but chord progressions, key changes, melodies, harmonies, crescendos, decrescendos, and tempos communicate with you, and yet I would argue that it's more passionate and powerful than...well, nearly anything else.
You want to truly experience this album? Let me suggest something to you: put the album on your iPod, go lay on your bed, turn the lights off, put your headphones on, shut the door, and close your eyes. Listen to it from beginning to end. Listen to the nuances, the layers, the segments, and the themes. Try pulling it apart.
You know what happens when I try to pull it apart? It melds back together. It's like trying to follow a single thread in a tangle of yarn. Sometimes, when I really concentrate, I can peel through it layer by layer. That's when you discover the tiny little nuances in the mix that you've never noticed before. The guitar part that was blending in so well that it didn't register with you. The cymbal crescendo in the right channel that adds that much more once you hear it. Individually, they're not only meaningless, but they're also incredibly simple. Hell, sometimes guitars are just ringing out one note over and over again. But when you realize all the smaller cogs in relation to the whole machine, the product is deeply meaningful and wonderfully complex.
In that same vein, the flow of this album is incredible. While each song works on the same overarching album theme, they each have their own “flavor” so to speak, but I think it's the transitions from song to song that really sell the cohesiveness. They somehow manage to clearly denote each track and bring them together seamlessly...simultaneously. Listen to the switch from “The Only Moment We Were Alone” to “Six Days At the Bottom of the Ocean”; it's pretty much a full stop, but it fits so well, it feels like a new section of the same song; it's more of a change in feel than a full-on track change, which I feel is important for an album like this. You can make another comparison to classical music by taking the album as the piece, and the tracks as the movements.
At any rate, I could go on for days with analysis of this album because it has so much to offer. It took me an inordinate amount of time to write this review because each time I put the album on to write, I got caught up and stopped working. It produces wonder and astonishment from my cognitive mind, but it also speaks to some other deeper part of me, and resonates there like clock tower bells. It's been intimately involved with many avenues of my life, so I hold it close, and wish to share it with people. Some discount it as boring and slow, and that's fine. But do yourself a favor and give it a shot.
Aw, fuck it. ZOMG, THIS ALBUM IS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!1111one1! IT'S THE BEST *DROOL*.
The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place by Explosions in the Sky
What exactly does that mean, The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place? According to Al Gore, the Earth certainly is not getting colder, and I haven't had to put The Zombie Survival Guide to good use yet, so the world couldn't be dead (or undead), either...although, saying I'm somewhat excited to kick some zombie ass is somewhat of an understatement...ANYWAYS, we're clearly dealing with the figurative meaning behind this phrase...obviously...sorry to insult your intelligence for the sake of my awful jokes. EITS have set forth the postulation that the world is not cold nor dead, and therefore must be warm and alive. Vibrant, beautiful, dynamic. I'll delve further into that notion later, but with this in mind, let's jump in. And if you actually intend to listen to the album while you read the review, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, put on a decent pair of headphones. You'll miss out on so much without them. This is the kind of music that easily justifies buying a $200 pair of Sennheisers.
First, let's look at the story and meaning in the album. Consider, for a moment, the first track. Easily one the the most beautiful, intense, passionate songs I've ever heard, "First Breath After Coma" is far and away my favorite song on the album, partially because it has some special meaning to me, but mainly because it lays the groundwork for the album. The title tells you exactly what is going on: someone has just woken up. Whether that is literally from a coma, or they've just had some startling revelation, I'm not sure, but I'm more inclined to go with the former. The opening guitar is like an EKG hooked up to a coma patient. The pounding bass drum is instantly recognizable as the person's heartbeat. The EKG soon starts picking up as the person becomes reanimated, and the guitar switches to sixteenth notes, their body emerging from standby. The bass guitar and second guitar come in as the person opens their eyes. They take things in, they remember who they are, where they are, and life begins to well up inside them. I won't go on for the whole song like this, but you literally get the picture. The music paints the scene for you BETTER than any lyrically-based song I've encountered. It builds and falls and builds and falls, rising and crashing like the sea.
In fact, the whole album rises and falls. You can liken it to anything you want: love, friendship, work, your lot in life. Ultimately, it comes down to this: It's alive. It's breathing. Flashback to the title, anyone? Add to that the mostly major chords pulsing through this sucker, and you've got warmth. Love. Whatever. Don't believe me? Listen to "Your Hand In Mine". Two guitars working so perfectly, intertwining, interlocking...kind of like two people holding hands? Sappy? Sure. Genius? Definitely.
Quite honestly, I haven't experienced emotion of this magnitude from instrumentals...no, scratch that. I haven't experienced emotion of this magnitude from music in general since I saw Mozart's Requiem performed. I seriously put these guys up there with Mozart. This is riveting, moving, emotionally charged music that lets nothing but chord progressions, key changes, melodies, harmonies, crescendos, decrescendos, and tempos communicate with you, and yet I would argue that it's more passionate and powerful than...well, nearly anything else.
You want to truly experience this album? Let me suggest something to you: put the album on your iPod, go lay on your bed, turn the lights off, put your headphones on, shut the door, and close your eyes. Listen to it from beginning to end. Listen to the nuances, the layers, the segments, and the themes. Try pulling it apart.
You know what happens when I try to pull it apart? It melds back together. It's like trying to follow a single thread in a tangle of yarn. Sometimes, when I really concentrate, I can peel through it layer by layer. That's when you discover the tiny little nuances in the mix that you've never noticed before. The guitar part that was blending in so well that it didn't register with you. The cymbal crescendo in the right channel that adds that much more once you hear it. Individually, they're not only meaningless, but they're also incredibly simple. Hell, sometimes guitars are just ringing out one note over and over again. But when you realize all the smaller cogs in relation to the whole machine, the product is deeply meaningful and wonderfully complex.
In that same vein, the flow of this album is incredible. While each song works on the same overarching album theme, they each have their own “flavor” so to speak, but I think it's the transitions from song to song that really sell the cohesiveness. They somehow manage to clearly denote each track and bring them together seamlessly...simultaneously. Listen to the switch from “The Only Moment We Were Alone” to “Six Days At the Bottom of the Ocean”; it's pretty much a full stop, but it fits so well, it feels like a new section of the same song; it's more of a change in feel than a full-on track change, which I feel is important for an album like this. You can make another comparison to classical music by taking the album as the piece, and the tracks as the movements.
At any rate, I could go on for days with analysis of this album because it has so much to offer. It took me an inordinate amount of time to write this review because each time I put the album on to write, I got caught up and stopped working. It produces wonder and astonishment from my cognitive mind, but it also speaks to some other deeper part of me, and resonates there like clock tower bells. It's been intimately involved with many avenues of my life, so I hold it close, and wish to share it with people. Some discount it as boring and slow, and that's fine. But do yourself a favor and give it a shot.
Aw, fuck it. ZOMG, THIS ALBUM IS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!1111one1! IT'S THE BEST *DROOL*.
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