No-one but me buys CD’s any more but I bought a couple last week, walking home.
They were Sydney duo Flight Facilities Down To Earth and Victorian band Augie March Havens Dumb. Both wonderful. Tune in whatever bastard way you do it.
They were the soundtracks to our weekend and so became part of our lives. Forever. Dinner with a friend back from England to tend to his dying Mum. A reunion with Wallington’s old work colleagues and kids at The Pavilion in Coogee on Saturday evening just after a wild storm. Good mates over for Sunday lunch for a recipe from the weekend magazines. That trout with cucumber pickle works.
Tell me that the lights won’t change. Tell me that friends and time won’t decay, that a happy stasis might hold, that afternoon light through the trees won’t corrode us all, that all of this won’t end.
It will, of course.
And music is the metronome of change. It’s enduring but ephemeral. Music is a part of sex and sadness and friends and fun. You cart it around in your head and do private things with it. It’s where you were and who you are.
Life, kids, storms, death, seasons, new love, loneness, failed love, a moment, a curve, that music.
For example: Beethoven’s Sonata for piano and violin no 5 in F major, 1 Allegro. It goes for 9′ 41 so let’s call it ten minutes. Clear your head and tune in. Just listen. It will stimulate and refresh you in a way you won’t believe. Be calm and listen for ten minutes every night for a week and you will be a changed person.
Lots of other music works the same way.
For example: this weekend Flight Facilities, Clare de Lune. Tell me that the lights won’t change.