The Songs of Silence

Mike came up with a neat post on his blog with his take on music, and that's stirred me into penning my story....


One of the reasons Iam really glad I was born into a Christian family is because of the easy access to popular Western music that I have. This is a phenomenon I've seen in just about every middle-class Christian household, but am still not quite sure of the reason. Maybe it's because of the early exposure we have to English spirituals and hymns which sort of legitimizes the inclination towards other Western genres. Similarly, you're much more likely to find guitars and keyboards in the hands of a James or an Andrew rather than a Hari or a Mohan. Anyways, whatever be the reason, I grew up in a house where my Mom played the guitar, where my Dad was known for his high tenor ringing out when in the shower and where cassettes of Belafonte, Jim Reeves, Humperdinck were strewn all over the place. So it was but natural that I loved music. It was equally natural that I loved the Oldies.


But peer pressure is a vicious thing during the teens, and I was forced to experiment.
I started out with Rock and its various sub-forms - soft, punk, acid, psychedelic, alternative and everything in between. I liked some, was repelled by others and indifferent to the rest.
I tried Metal and liked it till I got a headache. I found it too aggresive, too full-of-symbolism, too attitude-centric for my liking.
Pop was next in line, but take away the eye-candy, I found nothing beneath. After all, Mr. Greenbacks doesn't make a good singer.
I tried Jazz but, except for the saxophone playing, everything went over my head.
I loved the Blues for its restrained intensity but the lack of rhythm was mildly disconcerting. My hope that Rhythm & Blues would make up for this deficiency was sadly misplaced.
I plunged to even lower depths with hip-hop, rap and the rest that make up the rage of the current season.
Western Classical and Carnatic were interesting. The innate quality was immediately discernible, but I sometimes felt unable to proceed to the next level of appreciation. Listening to my Uncle point out a couple of finer points in a Handel composition, I realised that some kind of grooming is required for truly enjoying this kind of music.


So as I was still searching morosely for musical nirvana(and yeah, grunge is so-so with me), I heard a still, clear voice singing a simple song, with an acoustic guitar in accompaniment. Drawn to it like a moth to a light, it turned out to be what I was afraid it might be. Simple tunes, simpler arrangements and heart-felt lyrics, what more do you need to make magic? I was back where I belonged - in the twin kingdoms of country and folk music.


To explain this better, folk/country music is, ironically, how Ayn Rand would have described Howard Roark or how Roark describes his buildings (the only quote that I remember out of that darn book),

"A song, like a person, can have integrity. And just as seldom. Every piece of it is there because it forms a part of the song."

In other words, any little piece which is not an absolute essential for the song, will not be there. Music stripped bare and stark naked, that's folk/country. And it's in such a situation that the honesty of the artist comes through, because he has nowhere to hide. His emotions and thoughts are more keenly felt because the arrangements serve to subtly enhance rather than blatantly overwhelm.I thought Art Garfunkel summed it up beautifully when he said,

"When Paul and I performed, there were just our two voices and Paul's guitar. And that's what I think endeared us to our audience, the fact that there was so little between them and us."

It's also this simple honesty in arrangement that helps folk/country artists come out with songs having a multitude of themes with aplomb - from narratives (S&G's 'Boxer') to philosophical overtones(Dylan's 'Blowing in the Wind') to dialogues(Cat Stevens' 'Father & Son') to war-cries(Dylan's 'Times, They are a-Changing') to vague bitter-sweet emotions(Don McLean's 'American Pie') to the usual love songs and upbeat numbers.


So I guess Iam pretty much back where I began now. I still find it hard to distinguish sometimes between music that is bad and music that is just not my kind. But when it comes to music I like, I recognise it instinctively, and I've found that happening more often with folk/country than with anything else.I guess that's why, even after a zillion hearings, I still get gooseflesh listening to Garfunkel hitting the high note in 'Scarborough Fair', the violin piece in the middle of 'Annie's Song', Belafonte calling people onto the 'Banana Boat', Neil Diamond changing scales as he warns 'Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon' and on and on....


Finally, noticed how every folk/country artist I mentioned is an Oldie? Aah, but that's another story for another day!