A Life (so far) in 9 Songs
1. I Walk the Line (Johnny Cash)
Mr. Maurer was my music teacher in the first grade at John L. Edwards Elementary School in Hudson, New York. Being a really great teacher, he regularly introduced us to different genres of music by playing popular examples of those genres on vinyl.
Most of the songs Mr. Maurer played made an impression.
Johnny Cash's iconic tune, well, that tune mesmerized.
Cash's classic represents the earliest formation of my musical tastes. Country music runs deep in my musical soul. I have my parents to thank for this. I grew up listening to Country radio as well as watching Hee-Haw and The Barbara Mandrell Song. The Johnny Cash Show predates my arrival, but my parents loved that, too. They especially loved Johnny Cash because he was a part of the Billy Graham Crusade in those days. And my parents adored Billy Graham more than just about anyone this side of heaven.
Johnny Cash remains an essential influence not only on my musical spirit but also on my spiritual approach. Cash was a working man's mystic. He was as down-to-earth as they came yet walked with God. I share this approach. And as a pastor, I don't wear a collar much nor clerical robes at all. I don't like ties. But, inspired by Cash's song "Man In Black," I do dress in black almost solely.
The song itself was a landmark one. Nothing like it had ever been heard. It broke all the rules as far as form and sound went. Cash begins each line with a singled-noted hum, changes key a few times, includes no clear chorus, and the chicka-boom sound was new and fresh. Lyrically, the song is an ode to fidelity and self-control, not exactly a common theme in pop music then or now.
Nonetheless, Johnny Cash makes it work and timelessly so.
2. Missing You (John Waite)
Music is miraculous. It has the power to tap into our humanity and the human experience like nothing else. How many of you have asked the question or something similar to it, how did that song know just what I was feeling? Music evokes feelings we hold deep and dear. Music conjures emotions we need to express if merely vicariously. Music gives voice when our voice cannot be summoned. What better relays our feelings of joy, doubt, heartbreak, desperation, etc., especially when related to relationships. As Elton John sings, "Sad songs say so much." Songs in general say so much.
I discovered the miraculous power of music quite early. At 4, I remember hearing Jermaine Jackson's "Daddy's Home" on the radio and connecting it to my father having to leave on a work trip as a bus driver. But maybe the most powerful early examples of me experiencing the power of music, and understanding it, came when I was 13 years-old.
The Summer of 1984. Late that summer, I went camping for the first time with my buddy Brian and his family. I cannot remember exactly where. It was driving distance from Hudson, NY. Maybe North Lake. I dont' remember most of the specifics either. What I do remember is a name and a feeling.
Angela Herrington (or Harrington)... I met her around the swings of the camp playground. For hours into dusk one weekend day at camp, we hungout. Was it love? Probably not. Did I feel it as love then and there. I guess so. My feelings of great sadness leaving that campground were as real as song itself.
Just before we were about to leave, I went back to the playground to see if she was there. I at least wanted to get her phone number. She wasn't there.
On the solemn ride back home, a song came on the radio. A song that perfectly summed up my heartache. If I could have written the lyrics, they would have said something very similar, albeit less well.
Music... it's power can reach the level of the mystical.
Whenever I hear the song now I think of the innocence of youth and of youthful love, and sometimes of that name and what it represents, the reality of loss. I don't even know the spelling of that name. The synopsis of those moments in song, that song's conjuring of her name and the puppy love sentiment I felt - that I do know.
3. Minutes to Memories (John Mellencamp)
In my senior high school yearbook, each senior had a short profile. The profile included things like your favorite memory, your future plans, and your favorite song. This song below was listed as the latter.
Its an interesting choice. The song certainly represents a sound I strongly prefer. The subgenre name wasn't yet coined, but Alt-Country would certainly apply. Americana is another yet uncoined term for the same subgenre. The song includes straight ahead rock guitars and drums but with a bit of a twang, which is a good definition for the subgenre just named. In later recordings, Mellencamp would add fiddles and mandolin,, adding to its Alt-Country sensibility.
Lyrically, it tells the story of a young man sitting next and listening to an old man on a long bus ride. The old man reflects on his life and shares some hard-wrought wisdom. "Days to the minutes, and minutes to memories. Life sweeps away the dreams that we have planned. You are the young and you are the future. So suck it up and tough it out, and be the best you can." The song includes some meaningful ambiguity. It talks about the old man falling asleep with his head against the window. "And honest man's pillow is his peace of mind." Did the old man die? The other question comes near its end. "The old man told me this, my son. I'm telling it to you." Is the old man the narrator's father, and is the narrator talking to his actual son? It's not clear.
Mellencamp's mid to late 80's sound influenced my musical taste immensely. A roots Rock, Alt-Country sound with meaningful, literary lyrics with an eye toward social and economic justice - that continues to be music I seek and love to hear!
4. Little Wing (Stevie Ray Vaughan)
This is a 3-fer when it comes to this song and the time period surrounding my early days of college. I went through a few phases one after the other where I delved into a genre of music, and this song applied to each. The song also applies to a friend's big influence on my musical tastes at college. So here are the 3 items:
2.) Guitar-hero phase - My love for the Blues led me to immerse myself in the music of renowned Blues guitarists (B.B., Albert, and Freddie King, Robert Cray, Buddy Guy, Eric Clapton etc.) and then guitar-maestro's (Gary Moore, Jeff Healey, Eric Johnson, Steve Morse, Steve Vai, etc.). Of course, SRV was at the top of both lists!
3.) Jon V. At college, I met a guitar playing friend who had a huge influence on my musical tastes, introducing me to a wide range of music, from Velvet Underground to Pixies. I was already a fan of SRV. So was Jon. That we shared a love for Stevie Ray meant I knew his taste was trustworthy!
So this song combines my love for Jazz, the Blues, great guitar work, and my bro Jon V, and it recalls that period of my life, 1989-1993, namely.
5. Adagio for Strings (Samuel Barber)
Here's a proverb. If someone shares with you the most beautiful music, marry her.
In March of 1993, Holly gave me a mix-tape. That tape included some of her essentials - Take On Me, by A-Ha; Dance With Me, by Orleans; Soul Cages, by Sting; etc. On the tape, she recorded herself introducing each song!
Now, many folks claim it is the saddest piece of music ever created. Maybe so. What is beautiful does feel sad, but the beautiful can't help it. Beauty is similar to love. Love this side of heaven includes sadness. Why? Because on this side of heaven, to love means loss. What you love, the one you love, cannot remain forever. Nonetheless, in our moments, we cannot live without that love. We risk loss to know and live in love. Beautiful sadness is the result.
As for Barber's Adagio, to me it is also the greatest love song ever. In fact, the composition mirrors the sacred union that comes with human love. That sacred union, when two become one; to me, Barber's Adagio musically represents just that, climax and all.
Back to the mix-tape. Holly gave me the mix-tape after our first week together as a couple in Mebane, North Carolina. As I was getting on a Greyhound back to Ohio for Spring semester, she handed it to me. I listened to it once through, and of course was astounded. I listened again during a layover in Dayton. The last piece of music hit as I walked the streets of downtown Dayton. It moved a poem.
On the bus, the Adagio for Strings
moves my tears, makes real landscape paintings,
Impressionist signs of every kiss
that softened the world of the too-real.
The bus returns me. But you speak
through this music that touches the limitless,
through this love whose every image sings
of belonging. I’d never heard heaven before.
Day town dawns its own Ohio sunrise,
the Adagio, its soundtrack. Memory, its script.
Our week in Unknown becomes sonnets.
They write themselves now, and I lift
each letter to your window, to your eyes,
as hymns of conversion to Love’s Light.
Needless to say, the person who shared the most beautiful music with me, indeed, I married her! Thanks, Holly Glenzer!
6. Higher Ground (Stevie Wonder)
After 11 months living in Ithaca, New York, Holly and I moved to Raleigh, North Carolina. After a week in that neck of the woods a year prior, it had good vibes for us. Raleigh also had jobs, so we thought. It was after all Money Magazine's best place to live in 1994.
I eventually found a job at a cafe, gifts, and specialty food market called Simple Pleasures Cafe and Market. If I ever write a TV pilot screenplay, I'll be based on my experience at Simple Pleasures. It was an amazing place, filled with unique and intriguing characters. It was truly a work community.
Simple Pleasures, for some reason, also pulsed with music. The Triangle, as it is called, had a thriving music scene. In fact, a couple of that music scene's musical giants worked there for a time, namely at Simple Pleasures' warehouse during Christmas season to earn some spending cash while record labels withheld funds. (The music business is a ruthless one, I quickly discovered.) I worked extra hours at the warehouse during Christmas season. Sara Bell and Dana Kletter, part of the influential band Dish, would serve as disc jockey while doing the menial work at the warehouse, introducing me to some incredible music. Some of the music they introduced to me remain among my favorites, such as The Jayhawks, Vic Chestnut, Lucinda Williams, Gram Parsons. They also introduced me to 70's Stevie Wonder! Of course, I knew about mid-80's Stevie ("I Just Called to Say..."), but 70's Stevie was altogether different!
I also worked alongside a music lover who became a dear friend. Gary Brown, a chef in the cafe, had one of the best vinyl collections I'd come across. And this was in the mid-90's when vinyl wasn't as cool as it is now. He certainly had 70's Stevie in his mix! As well as some iconic and rare Jazz records he inherited from his pops. Gary exudes music!
There's one last musician I met at Simple Pleasures - Tift Merritt. She was a waitress at the cafe before she signed a record deal and experienced success. I remember sharing a James McMurtry tape with her, mirroring what was happening in that wonderful place - creative people sharing art!
Anyway, I'm eternally thankful for those 4-5 years at Simple Pleasures. I have so many musical memories and experiences to thank for that time. Stevie Wonder ranks at the top!
7. Land of Hope & Dreams (Bruce Springsteen)
If I had to choose a theme song for my work, it would be this one, an anthemic song that speaks to the universalism of the faith I espouse and preach! As for how I got here, I thought I'd share that journey here.
I was an intellectually curious kid. Religion, the Bible, matters of faith profoundly resonated with me. I willingly attended and participated in worship, Bible studies, and prayer meetings with my parents – and they attended a lot! My church pastor, Rev Morgan Jones. soon became my first mentor. Upon my baptism at 17, I experienced a call to ministry.
I entered college with that calling in mind. However, as a student, I began having grave doubts about the faith I was reared in. In my junior year, a crisis of faith reached a breaking point. I departed the Christian college I was attending and the faith it represented.
Without a spiritual home, my sense of calling went quiet. I first needed to answer my theological questions and discover where I belonged spiritually. That journey would take a few years. A couple faith traditions, Zen Buddhism and Unitarian Universalism, provided me residence, albeit not a permenent home. I entered seminary as a Unitarian Universalist, still sensing a call but not yet at peace.
A year after seminary, while in the UU credentialing process, Christian faith reawakened within me. This reawakening happened amid the throes of grief. In 2005, my grandmother, the picture of devotion and faith to me, passed. Her death, memorial, and my grief would change the trajectory of my life.
At her memorial, the words and truth of Jesus and the Jesus way comforted and calmed. "Be Still My Soul" and Only Jesus" rang in my heart.
In my grief thereafter, as I considered my grandmother’s devotion and servant-heartedness, I once again contemplated Christian ministry. I began attending a UCC congregation and immersed myself in the community. I soon recommitted my life to the long, latent call of Christian ministry.
The specifics of my Christian faith are now rather different than the Evangelical tradition I was given. I'm more inclusive in my theology. But my embrace of the Christian faith was the homecoming I needed.
8. Blind Faith (Corey Hart)
We named our son Corey for a couple reasons. That we both liked the name is the simple, primary reason, or maybe it is the overarching reason.
When we decided after 13 years to try and make a baby happen, we chose not to know the biological sex of the child before it was obvious at birth. We had two names picked out - Cora if a girl and Corey if a boy. Holly loved the name Cora especially. Both names have musical precedence behind them.
"Cora" is the name of one of my favorite pieces of music, an instrumental piece written by Randy Edelman from the Last of the Mohicans Soundtrack.
As for Corey, you likely already know if you know me well enough.
Here's the deal with my Corey Hart fandom. Yes, as a 13-14 year old, I'll admit I wanted to be Corey Hart whom all the girls loved. As an introverted, moody, broody adolescent, I appreciated Hart's vibe. However, it was his music that meant the most to me.
My parents moved the family just before the beginning of high school, the summer of 1985. We moved from Hudson, New York, a small city with an active downtown and a sense of community. It was easy for me to roam, walk to a bodega, play basketball with friends, etc. We moved to Earlton, New York. It was very, very rural and much more isolated. We followed family friends to Earlton, so I did have a buddy and would make more. But those first few months and my transition to a new school were not easy.
Corey Hart's music helped that transition, giving me an outlet for my emotions, namely loneliness and my need for belonging. Hart's music was a friend amid a big transition. In the process, I came to appreciate, quite early on in life, the power of music to soothe the troubled soul.
For these reasons, I remained a big fan, even when it wasn't so cool or hip with my indie-rocking friends. If nothing else, I'm a loyal fan!
One other reason for the name Corey. It sounds like Korea, especially if you say it as if calling his name (Korean language adds an -ah when calling someone's name).
Holly and I spent a year living in Korea, a meaningful time a few years before deciding to have a child. My ambition at the time of his birth was to obtain my PhD in Religious Studies with a focus on Korean religions. That ambition would soon be shelved. Parenthood came first. But the name Corey-a stuck!
As for the song "Blind Faith," it is my favorite Corey Hart song. It is very hymn like and speaks to the human need for deep trust in something good, something life and light infused beyond the harsh reality we often must face. The song helped me get through a couple moments of profound sadness and despair. Hence, it is the song I share.
I pray our Corey will find songs and faith to help him get through hard times.
9. What a Wonderful World (Louis Armstrong)
The plan: upon Corey's first breath outside the womb, he'd hear this song. I brought a CD player and a burned CD of songs with this one the initial track.
Corey's birth did not go ideally. I'll spare the details, but an emergency C-section precluded my What a Wonderful World plan. Like a good Louis Armstrong improvisation, the wonderful, song-filled moment would have to wait til Corey's first moments at home.
Louis Armstong has been a favorite of mine since the 4th grade. I starting playing the trumpet that school year, and my teacher played Louis Armstrong as the ideal trumpet player. He was the benchmark and the goal. One I and most never reach. But a great goal. He played with joy, with skill, and with creative genius, good aims for any burgeoning musician, even 9 year old trumpeters.
What a Wonderful World doesn't include the trumpet. It is not especially demanding skill wise. But one thing the song exudes is joy. Being a new Louis Armstrong is not in the cards for virtually all of us. But joy - that is obtainable! And there's no better aim than joy.
Above all, music gives me joy. Music is among God's greatest gifts. A life full of song is a good life, a blessed life, a God-infused life.
There's no better a song for telling this truth. It's why it was the first song my son heard. It's why I place - and play it - here as I end this story of a life in 9 songs.
P.S. If I live to 100, I'll add 9 more!
Comments
Post a Comment