Monday, October 26, 2009

Scoring Life

I don't know if your mind does this or not but mine scores life. Not like a football game, but like a movie. The score or soundtrack is the meat of most great moments in film. It's a rare movie that doesn't heavily lean on the soundtrack to underscore what the writer/director wants to convey in terms of bringing the audience into the moment emotionally. It's giving a collective connection to the crowd so that sad moments are sure to make your eyes burn with tears, scary moments make your bladder control mechanism temporarily unreliable, and tense moments make your brow furrow and sweat. I guess then the definition of a good score would be one that makes you leak in different ways.

As I wander through my day, music is always going on in my head. Every moment has a soundtrack. I don't do it consciously, it just happens. Maybe this is why my tastes in music are so stinking eclectic and I find an artistic appreciation for everything but bad opera and tone deaf mariachis. Accordions are of the devil, those plastic recorders from third grade sound the same no matter which orifice you use to blow them, and the definition of perfect pitch to me is a banjo in a dumpster. So I do have some instruments on my list of those that should never be practiced by anyone who wants to be taken seriously as a musician. Probably none are so offensive though, as the bagpipes. I mean, can you name one professional bagpipe player off the top of your head? Anybody have a cd of bagpipe music that you jam to in the car? Ever been in the heat of a romantic moment with your true love and click on the bagpipe tunes to accentuate the mood? Didn't think so.

Nevertheless, I have been moved by some songs lately that have become staples in the soundtrack of my life. "Nobody's Fault But Mine" is a good one when you're walking down the street in frustration. That's for those moments when you realize that you being wrong has either ruined someone else's day or made someone else's day. There's this great little song by Norah Jones called "The Long Day is Over" that works well at the close of (drum roll) a long day. It can't be played at 10 am unless you work third shift. Diana Krall has this weepy rendition of "Soldier in the Rain" that's sure to put you into a semi comatose state of depression by the end of its five minute run. When misery loves company, that's the tune that works. That one along with John Mayer's "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" and anything by Chase Coy.

Nothing quite works a road trip like Tom Petty. Doesn't matter which song either. I think they were all written in a moving vehicle because that's how they sound. "You Wreck Me", "Free Falling", "Higher Place", and "Crawling Back to You" are asphalt highlights, but the one that moves me to tears (and I may be the only one) is "Time to Move On". It's absolutely the only song to play when you're leaving somewhere with no promise that you'll ever return. Be careful though. Play it on your way home from work one day and you may get inspired and never go back.

When we were in Maui, there were a few artists/groups that got a lot of airplay in our car and that was the obvious Bob Marley, the not so obvious Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and Bob Schneider. Bob Schneider's got this song called "Gold in the Sunset" that is pretty catchy unless you're actually driving along the beach with the sunset actually happening off to your left and then it's absolutely magic. There's this part at the end of the song where this harmonic blend of voices just sings out in a moment when words just won't do the orange sky justice. Brilliant. Marley's classics work almost anywhere there's an ocean. Way better than Jimmy Buffet in my opinion, but Marley can take you from tense to chill in seconds with "Stir It Up", "Three Little Birds" or my absolute favorite sing along song ever, "Is This Love". CSNY's "Suite Judy Blue Eyes" is still a masterpiece but the track that gets me in the car is "Wasted on the Way". Walking through an airport, Owl City and Coldplay work well. Walking through a cemetery, slow bluegrass is soothing in a creepy sort of way. Sitting on the dock of the bay? Otis Redding knew one day we all would be. Driving through Arizona? "Wanted Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi is still sweet cranked to 11. In the city with the windows down? Some old TLC girl rap still has class..."hangin out the passenger's side of his best friend's ride..." Downtown Austin? Stevie Ray. Lifting weights? "Enter Sandman". Sitting in a beach chair? Colbie Callat. Lamenting loss? Dido. Working on a computer? Elvis Costello. Riding with your wife? Journey. In Vegas at night? Ol Blue Eyes, baby. Riding in a bus or thinking back on the 80's? "Sweet Child of Mine" Got a whiny teenager in the car? Katy Perry's "Hot and Cold". With your uncle who reads no book other than the King James Version of the Bible? Keith Green's "Asleep in the Light". Just want to be cool nomatter your age? Matisyahu. Sitting with Grandma drinking sweet tea? Patsy Cline's "Walkin After Midnight". Hanging with college buddies? REM. The list goes on longer than your life.

Now I know what my kids are thinking here. Where's the Jesus music, dad? That's where this article has somewhat of a point. You never know the power of music until you realize how much your moments are affected by it. The songs I've mentioned can accentuate the location, scenery, or mental state you're already in at the moment. But good worship music transcends that and creates a moment in itself. The "Jesus Culture" cd "Consumed" has a version of "Dance With Me" that's volcanic. Misty Edwards unreleased masterpiece called "Beauty Arise" wrecks me deeply. Kim Walker's "How He Loves" still stirs my soul into a tornado of awe at it's description of heart of the Father. Good worship music (and good is defined differently by different ears) is that which has the ability not simply to score your day, but move you away from the moments you feel locked into and lift you to a place where heaven meets you, redefines you, and draws the eyes of your heart from the wasted efforts of fruitless toil and onto the face in which the eyes of Love are deeply set and intensely focused on you. You whom He loves with relentless abandon. And at some point every day, that's good to know.