fourteen (theme: light)

[amethysting.livejournal.com]

Forgotten
TV on the Radio
Nine Types of Light
2011

I'll admit that I picked this theme at random and without much initial thought.  I was sitting in my living room, staring out the window, and at how the light streaming in made the floor glow and really emphasized the dark, dusty shadows under my radiator.

I couldn't decide how I wanted to interpret this theme...was I looking for a song that was light and bubbly?  Something that flicked a switch in my head?  Something that lights up the gloom?  I wasn't sure.  I love that I got to reacquaint myself with my CD collection.  I sat on the floor in the living room and listened to all of these songs that I forgot I loved.  Songs that I missed; it was like being reunited with friends (that I actually like) and haven't seen in a while.

For some reason I associated the theme with Alt Country.  Maybe it's because of the song you posted last week, but that was the genre I was drawn to.  I finally decided on a song, that, funnily enough was NOT Country in the slightest, and went to bed satisfied that I had found the answer to this question of Light.

And then, that beautiful weekend.  Everyone smiling.  Remembering what the sun feels like on the top of my head, on the bridge of my nose.  Squinting to see.  Walking down Sherbrooke holding my ipod, a book, an apple.  I was sitting in NDG park, looking up from my book at the passing pugs, the ferret on a leash, the strollers and the sun making stark outlines of still-naked trees.  And then this song.  TV on the Radio was one of those bands I read about and wasn't sure I would like but, being the girl who wanted to listen to music--ANY music, if it had the potential to be good--bought their first album the Tuesday it came out.  I remember being kind of nervous, even a little scared...this music was different.  Maybe it wasn't me.  I loved the first album, realizing that some parts were really...unapproachable? or difficult?  Sounds I wasn't used to at the time.  I like that that period is when I started to explore...buying CDs without really knowing what the music would sound like.  It's when I widened my net and I'm happy I did.

But, back to the park.  Those drums made me put down my book so I could just listen.  I knew it was TV on the Radio, but didn't know the title of the song.  Sitting on that bench in the park warmed by the sun, I closed my eyes..."I wait for the summerrrrrr, for the suuuuuuhhhhmmmmmerrrrrrr."  I felt like I was melting in the most wonderful way.  I love the little hint of jingle bells...it's kind of a weird juxtaposition.  I love those violins that come out during the chorus...the way they sound different in my right and left headphones (the violin melody in the right headphone after the second chorus reminds me of The Beatles..."Eleanor Rigby"?)  Hearing this song while everything seemed like it was kind of waking up around me...it was one of those perfect soundtrack moments.  I love how the song builds to what sounds like a volley of gunshots, how it kind of tumbles along...horns mixed with strings mixed with...someone whistling...mumbling, something kind of indiscernible.   

Aside: I only realized the album was called Nine Types of Light two days after I first heard the song (I SWEAR)...and then saw the cover and was like, oh, haha, funny coincidence...light!

fourteen. [THEME: light]

[cabaretlights.livejournal.com]

Illumine
Artist: Venus Hum
Album: S/T
Year: 2001
♥: illumine [ɪˈlu:mɪn] (tr.v): to give light to.

Of course, then we have to define "light" itself.

Light is necessarily multiplicitous. It is both wave and particle: no definitive answer, ultimately, you choose its interpretation. I listened to this song CAREFULLY for the first time, and the quiet ambulance siren at the beginning that I only hear with the headphones -- it sets the tone, so completely. Transitions and movement and maybe a beginning maybe an end, who really knows: you choose. You decide where to go with this song (with everything). Light, in all its indecipherable ambiguity, means that the power to decide is personal.


I'm serious when I say that one day we should revisit this theme, to see how perceptions have changed, how we'll reinterpret. This time around: I initially had quite a few thoughts, including a few songs I may post later. I looked at bubbly instrumentals; I searched "light" and "sun" and "bulb" in iTunes; I rejected a few on the basis of lyrics and music not quite matching, and I was on the bus and skimming "Artists" while listening to shuffle and then -------
The opening pulses of the beautiful Illumine, the birdsong-like sounds during the chorus, and that was that -- it was decided for me.

I can't remember if you know Venus Hum, but oh my god how much do I love them. Their particular brand of electropop and powerful female vocals is something I've never encountered quite the same way (and I listen to a LOT of female-fronted electropop). It feels more honest, in a lot of ways -- more human, like the robots and synths they're using to make the music are their friends. Okay that sounds crazy, but it's in her voice: it feels REAL.


And, god, Illumine -----------
I was introduced to the verb via the song and it quickly found its way into my personal vocabulary. To give light to. To be active in the process of lighting up a room, a text, a heart. When I used to write, a lot, this was one of my writing songs. Not because it's background music, as many good writing songs end up, but because there is a creative impetus hidden somewhere in the makeup, in the bars and rests and time signature. It is pressing.

This song is pure spring, but not the budding sunlight people usually associate with the season. Illumine, perhaps ironically, musically feels like a song about the middle of a spring NIGHT. There's a certain coldness to it, despite the honesty, despite the rawness -- the synth-beats make me think of refracted crystals: clear, but going in a million directions. (Also, re: clarity: "I can see now with clear eyes." Every time I hear that line I look up from whatever I happen to be doing, almost instinctively, and take in whatever happens to be around me. It feels definitive.) When I hear this song, I feel like I am looking up at a sky full of stars -- or maybe the stars are completely absent, because ----

I think the point of the song, if you want to go all form = content with it, is that you have to create your own light.

Shake out the nighttime,
shake off the uninspired mothballs,
feel that explosive clarity,
light goes in a million directions and you can't really intentionally channel it, just like you can't channel the concept itself, or music, or writing; it will take you somewhere different every time.

So it's the middle of the night.
You're in the dark, this song comes on, in all its contrasting crisp emotion.
You can't channel the light because it doesn't exist,
so you make it for yourself.
You write, or you dance, or you shift just a little in a direction you've never been before, and ---
you give light, to something.
Illumine.