Christmas, 2006

Editor Notes: This post was originally written on Facebook, in and around the Christmas Season in 2006. Enjoy.

I am pretty much going to tone down both my demeanor and thoughts on this one, as I am too invested into listening to music right now. I am well aware of the calendar month right now, or I should say aptly the “Holiday Season”, but I always seem to play Radiohead more instead of listening to festive carols and that like. I’m taken aback by one track in particular( as this shouldn’t come as a surprise to those close to me), titled Pyramid Song. I try not to dissect its meaning, not even when coupled with the visually soft and palate invigorating music video from a few years ago. I am personal with my  interpretations of Radiohead’s ballads and lyrics; in the same breath as a congregation is to the Sermon’s word or passages, and share them with almost disinteresting flare.

I’ve always said( or did I borrow this from someone else?) that we as human beings; as living creatures more so, possess with us, omnisciently, a soundtrack. I know this accord to be true, and as such, I know that the many vignettes in my life, the many serious and immersing conversation have been accompanied by Radiohead’s harmonic period glimpse. I won’t say that they inhabit my every waking moment, but “being a reasonable man” I will say that when I listen to one or two cds, I can immediately insert a track or ten behind a situation in my life.

At the moment I am listening to the aforementioned Pyramid Song, and the words, as well as the staggered piano melody, resonate Christmas memories from years long past. Regrettably, I insult myself as I write this, to pretend that this music can only can exist in a vacuum of holiday lights and sale pursuing zombies is sacrilegious. I remember many things when I listen to Radiohead, recalling people, fears, times  and landscapes. The words invoke an ancient semblance tied to me and this gift of life—and it does not diminish over the years nor waver in acknowledgment. Music should do that I think. I don’t think we should make music as remedial or repetitive as a television commercial and dumb down its message into something current(i.e recent break-up; current relationship,etc). I feel music should stir the soul thoroughly, whipping from its wooden spoon memories of dreams, other lives, future lives, and the question of eternal sleep( or transition).

I’ve heard from family members and friends, the coined atheists, that my brand of music is depressing and too melancholy for someone of my “ilk”. But I disagree, I’m such a sullen boy; such an excitable child; such a dark angel, and music of this magnitude plays right to my heart’s tidings. If not to help me remember those thoughts that are dear, and dress my writing skills, than to remind me that life is a period thing; a momentary wish, that remains the same, even as time changes, but flourishes when we dare to let it—outside the vacuum .

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