Just me and the water
Without lyrics to entice exegesis, music can become anything you want it to be, and it reaches places you can’t touch. Tonight I will share with you four instrumentals from my library, each reaching separate itches that other songs won’t scratch. My places are different than yours, of course. Leave a comment and let us know what yours are.
1. I grew up in the rural part of rural Pennsylvania, where at night I’d hear trains from across the cornfield and I’d wake uneasily, remembering the trouble I had gotten into that day and how mad my Dad got.
Tindersticks: Vertrauen II
2. I’d try to fall back to sleep, and suddenly I’m floating on a flooded world, my twin-size bed the last life raft for me and my friend from school. I hold her hand gently, and we become best friends, ready to be lovers when we get old enough.
Brian Eno: Deep Blue Day
3. Older now, the same waters are imagined, and they’re inside out now. I’m the flood, and the world is a stone in my stomach. Joy is terrible and close.
My Bloody Valentine: Glider
4. I’m still the flood, but now I’m friends with the water. I look over the tops of the trees of the childhood forest, over the farmers’ fields, over the toy trains, and into the window of a rowhouse with warm light.
The Clientele: The Dance Of The Hours