Tuesday
Jul242007
deep and wide
Tuesday, July 24, 2007 at 03:24AM
Tonight I laid in bed with my iPod, something I never do. I heard a Phil Collins song on the radio tonight, I don’t remember which one, and it di d something to me. It was so simple and open and beautiful and sort of cheesy and I loved it. Tonight I listened to Genesis, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears and Tears for Fears again. The same three songs. The ones with the groove and the soul. I can’t get enough.
Tonight music moved me. Music pays my bills. Music feeds my family. Music is the feel of the strings and the wood under my fingers. But I lose the music. It turns into a job and what was almost in my hand is back flying in the wind like a kite.
Tonight I am almost touching it again. To list the songs and the artists does no justice. It’s the feeling I’ve found. The moment when hope is restored. The beauty of the melody resting with the groove. The dance, the shift, the feeling that life is here.
Life is rhythm. We lay down and we rise. Our hearts beat. We lose the groove and we stumble, we flail. We lose the questions and only find anger and fear.
We lose each other and only find ourselves. And ourselves are not enough. There is no harmony alone. And no rhythm.
But God is in the rhythm. He knew the dark needed the light. He knew the ocean needed the land. He knew the woman needed the man. The melody and the harmony. The kick and the snare. The hand and the drum. The tension and the release. The grave and the sky.
Tonight I’m writing because I have to. For this moment I have found what I have lost. I worry all the time. Will the songs come? Will I have something to say? Will people want to hear? Will they buy and listen and pay our bills?
Yes.
The songs will come. The heart always has things to say that people want to hear. Need to hear. Will believe in and lift up and support. Because when the heart really speaks, and when the fingers and the hands are fluent in rhythm and melody, we listen. We always have and we always will.
We feel it. The music that moves us goes beyond our frontal lobes and our language. It goes straight into the bloodstream. It wrenches our gut and grabs our heart. The Minor falls and the Major lifts. The baffled King composes “Hallelujah�.
As I write this I listen to an unfinished piece over and over again. Cason and B.J. in Cason’s bedroom back when we were single and in a band. Every morning I wake up angry. Cason and I share a vent and their creation wakes me up before I want. They’re listening loud. And now this tiny, little screen shows a picture Cason must have attached, the cover art I miss so dearly.
Germany. Cason in a black stocking cap, in profile. B.J. looking at the camera with a gentle smile. He always sees right through me, knows how much I want his respect. He is older than I am and found the groove years before me. His kindness and belief in me give me strength to fight, to carve my words and my melodies and my spirit.
I hear this unfinished piece, the pulse and the ascending harp line. They title it “Harpoon�. I don’t know why. It’s as unfinished as my children are. Beautiful, like them, but only because I hear their reflection in it.
Music is a dead language if you don’t have people you love.
Music is real like love. You hold it like love. You can lose it like love. It is an echo of love. Maybe we like the sad love songs because they make us hope that tomorrow we’ll grab ahold of what always seems just outside our grasp.
Tonight I’ve found my old friends in the rhythm, my wife in the hope of a melody, my girls in the lilt and the twirl.
Tonight I’ve found God in the groove. The pulse that is always there beneath me, above me, behind me, before me, waiting for me to ride within its heartbreaking, breathtaking, dark and beautiful waves.
Deep and wide…
Deep and wide…
Deep and wide…
Tonight music moved me. Music pays my bills. Music feeds my family. Music is the feel of the strings and the wood under my fingers. But I lose the music. It turns into a job and what was almost in my hand is back flying in the wind like a kite.
Tonight I am almost touching it again. To list the songs and the artists does no justice. It’s the feeling I’ve found. The moment when hope is restored. The beauty of the melody resting with the groove. The dance, the shift, the feeling that life is here.
Life is rhythm. We lay down and we rise. Our hearts beat. We lose the groove and we stumble, we flail. We lose the questions and only find anger and fear.
We lose each other and only find ourselves. And ourselves are not enough. There is no harmony alone. And no rhythm.
But God is in the rhythm. He knew the dark needed the light. He knew the ocean needed the land. He knew the woman needed the man. The melody and the harmony. The kick and the snare. The hand and the drum. The tension and the release. The grave and the sky.
Tonight I’m writing because I have to. For this moment I have found what I have lost. I worry all the time. Will the songs come? Will I have something to say? Will people want to hear? Will they buy and listen and pay our bills?
Yes.
The songs will come. The heart always has things to say that people want to hear. Need to hear. Will believe in and lift up and support. Because when the heart really speaks, and when the fingers and the hands are fluent in rhythm and melody, we listen. We always have and we always will.
We feel it. The music that moves us goes beyond our frontal lobes and our language. It goes straight into the bloodstream. It wrenches our gut and grabs our heart. The Minor falls and the Major lifts. The baffled King composes “Hallelujah�.
As I write this I listen to an unfinished piece over and over again. Cason and B.J. in Cason’s bedroom back when we were single and in a band. Every morning I wake up angry. Cason and I share a vent and their creation wakes me up before I want. They’re listening loud. And now this tiny, little screen shows a picture Cason must have attached, the cover art I miss so dearly.
Germany. Cason in a black stocking cap, in profile. B.J. looking at the camera with a gentle smile. He always sees right through me, knows how much I want his respect. He is older than I am and found the groove years before me. His kindness and belief in me give me strength to fight, to carve my words and my melodies and my spirit.
I hear this unfinished piece, the pulse and the ascending harp line. They title it “Harpoon�. I don’t know why. It’s as unfinished as my children are. Beautiful, like them, but only because I hear their reflection in it.
Music is a dead language if you don’t have people you love.
Music is real like love. You hold it like love. You can lose it like love. It is an echo of love. Maybe we like the sad love songs because they make us hope that tomorrow we’ll grab ahold of what always seems just outside our grasp.
Tonight I’ve found my old friends in the rhythm, my wife in the hope of a melody, my girls in the lilt and the twirl.
Tonight I’ve found God in the groove. The pulse that is always there beneath me, above me, behind me, before me, waiting for me to ride within its heartbreaking, breathtaking, dark and beautiful waves.
Deep and wide…
Deep and wide…
Deep and wide…
Reader Comments (25)
Well said, bro. Well said.
wow. don't make a bald man cry. not cool.
Beautiful...
Thanks for saying what I can only feel.
This site has been my homepage for almost 9 months now. Sometimes I open safari and think why do I still have this as my homepage? Today I was reminded why.
Wow, that was cool, man. Thank you for writing that.
Right you are, Nick. Beautiful stuff, Andy.
Wow. Awesome.
mmmmmmmmmmmmm...
and father maple played through sussudio last night, too. it was glorious.
Wow. That's beautiful.
That was one-of-a kind amazing Andy! I have to echo Stephen- thanks for putting into words what most of us just feel in our guts. As always you rock!
Tom
i love tears for fears.
She don't even know my name, but she loves me just the same.....
s-s-s-sudio, oh oh
check out this band from my hometown of halifax, nova scotia.
http://www.myspace.com/thecontact
Great post! Songs have a way of grabbing my heart at its hardest and softest moments and squeezing out the raw emotion I can't seem to be able to speak from tip of my tongue. Here's to Failing, stumbling, dancing, singing, seeking, and finding.
God is in the groove.
And your last words remind me of my favorite hymn:
"O the deep deep love of Jesus..."
[The rhythm of that song beats like the heart of the ocean, and the Lord's love is so much like that - in us and through us and surrounding us, yet we so often think we have to hold the Conch Shell of Christianity up to our ears to hear it. All we need to do sometimes is to listen to the music around us and to FEEL.]
Amen, Andy, and thanks.
I've just rediscovered Genesis after listening to them when I was a kid. The Peter Gabriel stuff and early Phil Collins-era stuff is mindblowing.
see to me, it's your songs like Kankakee and Early in the Morning that carry that rhythm that you speak of. Songs that move your soul beyond the bounds of normal life. Songs that reach down and touch you. You've tapped into that....at least for me
JeffH - me too. I had forgotten how *awesome* Wind and Wuthering really is; I just rediscovered it and it give me chills. And Selling England By the Pound is one of the best progressive rock albums *EVER*. I have all this Genesis vinyl in the basement, and no turntable to put it on... :-(
AndyO - I don't have a musician-job like you do, but I've also felt the soul-aching loss that comes when the joy disappears from the music. It really stinks when one gets together to play music with friends, just for fun, and one feels completely detached (emotionally and spiritually) from the music one is playing or listening to. You've somehow put my soul into your words - How do you keep *doing* that? :-)
Going back and listening to Genesis and Yes and Kansas and Marillion has also uplifted me recently like you talk about. Now off to find some Tears for Fears... I need to gets me a copy of Songs From the Big Chair.
Zach - Ditto on the Early in the Morning and Kankakee references - although, for me, Kara hits me square in the chest. Every. Single. Time. :-)
Beautiful. Music is an awesome gift, moving us in ways nothing else can. Thanks for sharing that moment.
I look forward to this website everyday. :)
had to pull up hallelujah in itunes after that.
Peace. - Caleb
i agree Gronk...Kara is another great one...aight off to bed...putting on some Genesis to fall asleep to
Andy, I hate to reiterate what other people say but it's true, you have a way of putting to words the things I feel in my heart. I look for that emotional connection in every song I hear. I often judge songs worthy or not by how deeply they impact me emotionally. Unfortunately, this has also kept my musical vision considerably tunneled. It doesn't really bother me though because I know what I like and I don't really have time to listen to all kinds of artists, let alone the money to buy music I might not like. Look, It's late, I'm rambling and I need sleep.
I just want you to know that I dig this site. I look forward to it every day and this entry is precisely why.
You have a gift my friend, and I truly appreciate what you do.
thanks
Wow.
i don't play shows often, but the last few times i have, i've done an acoustic cover of "in the air tonight"... such a hauntingly lovely song, even without the drums...
i don't play enough any more, really... last night, as i was about to lead my cell group through a couple of praise songs, i had a moment to just start playing like i used to every night. just a few random chords (in the same key, of course) thrown together in a quick pattern, picking out a simple melody with a hammer on the A string here or a pull of the G string there... just letting it flow out as everyone was talking, waiting to begin.
but it was the begining. it was God opening the gates that seem so closed at times. i play and sing nearly every sunday morning, but this was more than song. this was the sound of God speaking, of the Spirit stirring the water to heal something... something broken.
what you wrote seems to echo the lesson, too... a bit... hebrews 1:1. God has spoken... God is still speaking... it's only our weakness of our trust, only the frailty of our conviction, that keeps us from reading, seeing, understanding...
so play on, brother... play on...