Tara7002
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Feeding my current alt-country obsession, I was surprised by a tasty little morsel this week. I received a recommendation from a friend for this documentary "Searching For the Wrong-Eyed Jesus". The title comes from an album by alt-country singer-songwriter Jim White, who also serves as guide on the journey of "Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus."
This documentary delves into the Deep South. The filmmakers are looking for the life/culture that has created a genre of music that is so filled with passion, heartache, violence, religion. Musical appearances include The Handsome Family, 16 Horsepower, Jim White, Johnny Dowd and others. I have to say this is possibly the most breath-taking film I have ever seen. Every shot, every word, every song seems perfectly crafted for bringing the South to life in a way that few ever experience.
I have also fallen in love with Jim White. You should definitely check out his stuff (Still Waters and The Wound That Never Heals are very good starting points).
Over the last few days I've come across several statements about music that truly capture the essence of what music means. I've always been baffled by those who can just hear music without truly listening to it. How can you possibly just hear words, sounds, melodies, harmonies, beats, instruments, tempos, etc. without some kind of emotional response? For me, it's impossible.
In their explanation of the films accompanying the songs of Strays Don't Sleep, Matthew Ryan and Neilson Hubbard summed it up nicely saying, "Muisc and film is like diving into the ocean. It surrounds you." My life is surrounded by music. As nothing more than a fan, it's weird explaining this response to people. No, I'm not in a band. No, I don't play any instruments. No, I just listen, absorb, drift away, surround myself.
Music is a purely individual experience. Each and every song, every measure, every note, every lyric means something different to the person hearing it. It grows, it moves, it's ever-changing. It means something different every single time it's heard. And yet draws on those memories created during previous encounters.
I love this paragraph from "The Sound Memories Make" in Hyperactive magazine: "Memories inextricably link to the music we listen to. Images flood my mind: lying across the hood of my car at twilight while tracking the movement of satellites; trespassing private property to find the perfect picnic spot; running through the sprinklers after a day of stuffy classrooms. Memories attach themselves to songs, and vice versa."
It's refreshing to find music that reminds me of this feeling. Of surrounding myself in the music. Of getting lost for a few precious moments. Of experiencing joy, sadness, fear, remorse, guilt, pleasure, excitement. Of emptying my head of all worries, doubts, concerns. Because at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is the music.
I love being excited about a new band, a new song, a new sound. I love hearing others get excited about something they heard for the first time. Not from the perspective of a musician, not overanalyzing the "abilities" of an artist, but from the perspective of a fan. Loving the music because it reaches you on a level beyond just talent. It becomes a thing of beauty. That moment when the only reason a song exists is so you can experience it. And at last, you're able to just let it surround you.
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love jim white. and love 16 horsepower.
Wrong Eyed Jesus is a wonderful piece of film making. The image of the Handsome Family singing on the porch surrounded by flood water has stayed with me.
Wait... Still Waters was a real band?