Have you ever come across an artist with whom you felt an instant connection? This connection is different from others, it's not merely that the artist speak of things you know well and intimately, nor is it mere admiration for how like you they seem, it certainty isn't the kind of connection that grows with each listen so you feel by imbibing the artists in your life you are growing a little. No it's the kind of connection you recognise instantly-you feel it in your bones with the first strains of music and when he/she begins to sing and you're even willing to entertain the slightly foolish notion that you're siblings of the same order-kindred spirits if you will be.
It's rare this kind of connection because we love so many artists for the diversity that they bring to our lives, for the way they train our ears to their sound and their message, for opening us to new ways of seeing and I'm sure many many more reasons. But this kind of connection is unique because it seems to take you back to somewhere ancient, some place no I don't want to use the word primal, even before that- a beginning of sorts. Your beginning. I haven't felt this way about too many artists and it's a good thing because over the past few days I have become obsessed with Marissa Nadler.
The moment I first heard the opening strains of Thinking of You I immediately had that swooping sensation in my stomach a little like when you first realise you're in love but instead of throwing you off balance like love does, this feeling centers you. I guess it's what meditation should do. And then when I hear her cover of Famous Blue Raincoat (a song that holds so many memories for me that I would call it my favourite Cohen song if not for Chelsea Hotel No. 2) I was lost. I am not someone who grudges covers but I am wary when it's a song I am already deeply attached to. Her version manages to break through that barrier. It is just as painful as Cohen's but adds a layer to it, turns the mystery of that song in a different direction and it becomes every bit her song.
I love that she is so gracefully dark. Why gracefully? I guess it's because it goes back to something I said to someone a long time back, that darkness can be very very beautiful that there's much to learn from it if we allow ourselves to. I was sick of the whole enlightenment spiel (at the time) a friend was giving me and I can remember how we coined the word 'endarkenment' as an anti thesis to it. For as long as I can remember I've been preoccupied with pain. I've had clashes with so many people about this though that I just shut up about it now. It's why poetry works so well for me and much of Marissa's writing reminds me of things I know, wonder about, some times don't have courage to write about.
I wrote a poem (Have you seen my sadness?) under her influence the other day and it's one I am happy with even though I know it needs more work. I took time with it, her music playing all the while in the background and it was just an amazing experience writing it. I love when that happens, when the writing is enough.
Read more about her at Pitchfork they have some great reviews of her albums. My favourite so far is Songs III Bird on the Water.
It's rare this kind of connection because we love so many artists for the diversity that they bring to our lives, for the way they train our ears to their sound and their message, for opening us to new ways of seeing and I'm sure many many more reasons. But this kind of connection is unique because it seems to take you back to somewhere ancient, some place no I don't want to use the word primal, even before that- a beginning of sorts. Your beginning. I haven't felt this way about too many artists and it's a good thing because over the past few days I have become obsessed with Marissa Nadler.
The moment I first heard the opening strains of Thinking of You I immediately had that swooping sensation in my stomach a little like when you first realise you're in love but instead of throwing you off balance like love does, this feeling centers you. I guess it's what meditation should do. And then when I hear her cover of Famous Blue Raincoat (a song that holds so many memories for me that I would call it my favourite Cohen song if not for Chelsea Hotel No. 2) I was lost. I am not someone who grudges covers but I am wary when it's a song I am already deeply attached to. Her version manages to break through that barrier. It is just as painful as Cohen's but adds a layer to it, turns the mystery of that song in a different direction and it becomes every bit her song.
I love that she is so gracefully dark. Why gracefully? I guess it's because it goes back to something I said to someone a long time back, that darkness can be very very beautiful that there's much to learn from it if we allow ourselves to. I was sick of the whole enlightenment spiel (at the time) a friend was giving me and I can remember how we coined the word 'endarkenment' as an anti thesis to it. For as long as I can remember I've been preoccupied with pain. I've had clashes with so many people about this though that I just shut up about it now. It's why poetry works so well for me and much of Marissa's writing reminds me of things I know, wonder about, some times don't have courage to write about.
I wrote a poem (Have you seen my sadness?) under her influence the other day and it's one I am happy with even though I know it needs more work. I took time with it, her music playing all the while in the background and it was just an amazing experience writing it. I love when that happens, when the writing is enough.
Read more about her at Pitchfork they have some great reviews of her albums. My favourite so far is Songs III Bird on the Water.
No comments:
Post a Comment