Friday, August 13, 2004
Two days ago I heard “Ana Ng” for the first time in ~13 years. One of those songs I love . . . it has a similar quality of attention, pure pleasure, I mentioned in a previous post.
I mostly don’t listen to music because when I pay attention to it it stays in my head 24/7 for unreasonably long periods of time. I don’t have a photographic memory, but I do a phonographic and it prevents me from sleeping, thinking, even perceiving. And the more I like a song the longer it stays. I’ve trained myself to, when hearing a song I enjoy, to pay light attention so it will pass by and leave me be. But sometimes I give in, and it is so pleasureable, a tangible sense of time passing through and not just around, of the world of the moment—dominion of Stevens’ “Emperor of Ice Cream”—but the days following have the quality of a hangover. When I meditate, though, I do get to the place where consciousness accedes to depth and unpaved quiet and the emperor’s ice-cream truck recedes.
Two days later, though, still waiting for me where it can.
addendum: I see now, having googled the lyrics page for link above, that the final line of the refrain is not, as I've always heard, “or the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you" but “They're the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you." I think, of course, my version is an order of magnitude smarter in its subjective/objective positioning, and more TMBG-ish to boot. So, I guess not completely phonographic.
Sigh. Maybe this’ll help my mind lose interest faster.
I mostly don’t listen to music because when I pay attention to it it stays in my head 24/7 for unreasonably long periods of time. I don’t have a photographic memory, but I do a phonographic and it prevents me from sleeping, thinking, even perceiving. And the more I like a song the longer it stays. I’ve trained myself to, when hearing a song I enjoy, to pay light attention so it will pass by and leave me be. But sometimes I give in, and it is so pleasureable, a tangible sense of time passing through and not just around, of the world of the moment—dominion of Stevens’ “Emperor of Ice Cream”—but the days following have the quality of a hangover. When I meditate, though, I do get to the place where consciousness accedes to depth and unpaved quiet and the emperor’s ice-cream truck recedes.
Two days later, though, still waiting for me where it can.
addendum: I see now, having googled the lyrics page for link above, that the final line of the refrain is not, as I've always heard, “or the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you" but “They're the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you." I think, of course, my version is an order of magnitude smarter in its subjective/objective positioning, and more TMBG-ish to boot. So, I guess not completely phonographic.
Sigh. Maybe this’ll help my mind lose interest faster.
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Frankly, I think it's one of the greatest (lyrically) pop songs ever written.
I actually wrote about it on my blog a month ago.
It's so dense, & quirky & touching (all with tongue firmly planted in cheek).
And, just to note, I'm glad I don't suffer from phonographic memory. I do, however, suffer from a seismographic memory. When the Earth moves under my feet I feel the reverberations for days.
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I actually wrote about it on my blog a month ago.
It's so dense, & quirky & touching (all with tongue firmly planted in cheek).
And, just to note, I'm glad I don't suffer from phonographic memory. I do, however, suffer from a seismographic memory. When the Earth moves under my feet I feel the reverberations for days.
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