Listening to Chick Corea's Children's Songs. I am struck by something....music is , at its best, like a forgotten dream, a resonance of something just on the outskirts of our collective memory.
The resonant quality of string- piano, viola, guitar, or whatever- remind me still of the sounds created by planets and stars thru out the known universe. Something sings still, deep down inside, and demands to be let out, reproduced n response to what we unconsciously hear, or mayhaps, remember. No matter what musical form from the earliest days of man, there is a demand for harmony and melody, patterning to the sounds created. It is only since we have become cut off from the natural world, so overwhelmed by sound, such as the highway that dirtys up the peace of my backyard, that the sounds have started to be so discordant as to be offensive to the ear. Most metal music is not produced in small villages. It comes from the loud, obnoxious big cities around the world, born of the rats-in-a-cage syndrome.
Ah, I rant, the scientist, the poet, and the philosopher battling for supramacy. I am just glad for the music that passes into my life. It is balm to my troubled soul.
With heavy heart, I also note the passing of yet another musician from my own past, as well as a lot of the world. Doug Feiger of The Knack lost the battle with cancer recently. He is fondly remembered by the world for bright perky pop that could make a heavy world seem lighter, if only for 3 and a half minutes at a time! RIP, Doug.