"I'm gonna base this moment on who I'm stuck in a room with. It's what life is. It's a series of rooms. And who we get stuck in those rooms with adds up to what our lives are."
Seventy-six keys sit glowing in front of me, a combination of letters, numbers, commands, and functions. Eighty-eight lay to my left, no more than two feet from where I'm sitting, waiting to be played. This is the first time that I've combined playing piano and blogging into a simultaneous post, and I have no expectations or ideas where this will go. I'm just going to play and type, type and play, thoughts running across the screen as I go along. For setting, I'm alone in my house, wearing the most comfortable t-shirt, sweatshirt, and sweatpants I own, with socks and slippers for bonus comfort. That's kind of the mood I've been in all day, and I'm curious to see the impact it will have on the songs I'm about to listen to and play. It is 7:10pm as I begin this, and I am unable to tell you what time it will be when I end this. But enough typing...for now.
Totally not sure how I want to do this second part...I ended up playing eight songs, which I'll list below. After briefly thinking about it, I'm curious about the causality between songs/mood. I was in some sort of hazy, melancholic mood, and I believe as a result, gravitated to these songs. Although one could make the argument that listening to these songs puts one in a hazy, melancholic mood. I only know the causality this time because I felt the mood first and then went to the songs. Would it work the other way around? In any event, here are the songs I played, with reasons unbeknownst to you, and possibly to myself, as well.
Every now and then, I'll have a bit of trouble falling asleep at night. I've become too conditioned to sleep on the same side of my bed with the same two of three pillows under my head. (No seriously, I think this is a real issue.) Sometimes my mind can't stop racing about certain things at night, and other times, I'm able to focus on a singular idea and ride that thought train until I fall asleep. Here's what I came up with last night...
For starters, this thing happens to me where my room almost pans out and expands greatly, all while my eyes are closed. I don't want to call it an out-of-body experience or anything along those lines...it's very hard to explain, but it feels like I'm floating into some kind of space vortex that is only darkness. It's kind of cool, and I know that when that happens to me, I'm in some kind of mental zone. I was thinking in particular last night about how we encounter things in our lives. I believe, and have for the past few months, that people fall into one of two groups - those who would rather experience something new and for the first time, and those who would rather re-experience something to glean something new from taking it in a second time. I'm firmly in the latter group, and the evidence is simple - I've blogged about the same Explosions In The Sky album three separate times. I'm not entirely sure how strong which group you're in correlates to you being an extrovert/introvert, respectively, but I have a hunch there's something to it.
I also thought about penguins, metaphorically. In The Last Lecture, which I quasi-blogged about in the past, Randy Pausch describes an award he gives out to the project group that experienced "glorious failure." He compared this to the first penguin who enters what may be predator-infested waters, because someone's gotta do it. I connected that line of thinking to looking back at various moments in my life, and how I've matured in each aspect since those moments. Think about the first week of your job, if you have one, and how you've developed since then. Think about the first month of your relationship, the first dates you went on, and how you've grown as a lover since then. Think about the difference in class participation from the end of the semester to the beginning. Growing as an individual only happens when there exists room to grow, and there exists room to grow only if you allow yourself those opportunities. You might think this has nothing to do with penguins, but that's the connection I made. Go be the first penguin - you'll look back on it knowing you've become a better person for it.
I had a tough time coming up with a decent name for this idea, and I'm still not sure I have one. In any case, here are three musical selections/passages/phrases/parts that I really like, and three that I'm not as big a fan of. If it sounds like I've done this "3 up, 3 down" thing before, it's because I have, twice.
3 up 1. The drum beat in "Feel Good Inc."
Huge fan of this song in general; it's catchy and I'm strangely okay with the rap parts. But by far the most credit in this song goes to the measure at 1:42; it just sounds real smooth despite being four quarter notes. Set up nicely by the drum pattern before, too. Fantastic four bass drum notes.
2. The main theme in The Dark Knight Rises main theme
This selection is very similar to my first choice in the sense that it's set up as one idea and then contrasted as another. Hans Zimmer is an absolute genius and works this technique to perfection. If you're looking for the two notes that comprise the main Dark Knight-ness of The Dark Knight, listen for it being set up at 23 seconds, and it coming for real at 38 seconds.
3. The final solo in "Satellite" by Guster
Mega-catchy tune, super-fun to sing in the car, and by far my favorite part is the outro solo that you can find at 4:09. Eight of the sweetest guitar-solo measures I've ever heard. Love the sound, love the notes, love that it keeps on going after you think it'll stop after four measures. Well done, Guster, well done.
3 down
1. The backup singers in "Rolling In The Deep"
I used to like this song a lot, and I'm just not a fan of it anymore. I've always been displeased with this one particular part, which hits right at 1:00. It's the first thing the backup singers sing, and it's totally not in the scale. "Wish" is a half-step higher from "met," "gonna," and "in" and I hate it.
2. The chorus in OneRepublic's "Love Runs Out"
Overall I can't decide if I like this song or not, but the second part of the chorus is one beat too late, I think. There's "I've been running," one, two, "I've been running," one, where I think it would be way better if it were "I've been running," one, "I've been running," one, two. Just a minor change I'd make. That, and mashing the song up with "Love Lockdown."
3. The number of times the chorus is sung in "How to Save a Life"
Look, I love this song. It's one of my favorite to play on piano, and one of my favorites to sing to. Amazing song. I just don't think the chorus needs to be sung 6.5 times.
It's been too long since I've blogged about time (ironic, because of the whole time-doesn't-exist thing), but I've been realizing a number of things tonight that I'd like to write here. If there's a first question to oppose the time-doesn't-exist theory, it's probably something along the lines of how we measure our lives. Well, we've assigned this thing called time to our lives, but why can't we think of our lives as a collection of moments? A series of rooms, if you will. Top of the page - "I'm gonna base this moment on who I'm stuck in a room with. It's what life is. A series of rooms." Time, moments, rooms, whatever you want to call it, here is what I've been thinking about...
Think about the oldest person alive right now. No one else who is alive is older than that person. Additionally, no one currently alive was alive when the oldest person on life was born. If you're reading this and you're not the oldest person alive, you, me, and everyone else had yet to exist when this person was born.
Staying on this theme, the oldest person alive will be the oldest person alive a lot longer than how long the youngest person alive will be the youngest person alive. People are always being born and they are always the youngest people alive. People are always dying, but they are not always the oldest people who were alive.
We don't know what our grandparents were like as children, or what our parents were like as children. Nor will our children and grandchildren know what we were like at their age, aside from stories passed down. The people who we will know for the longest amount of time are our siblings, so it's important to have as strong a relationship that you can with them, if you have any. If not, think of your oldest friend.
Many people are proponents of the carpe-diem, life-is-short mindset. That's not an incorrect mindset to have, but we will do nothing in our lifetime longer than we live. Living your life is the longest thing you will ever do. Enjoy it.
Five days short of having been a college graduate for six months, I have finally completed a list of the most important thing I've learned in each of my college classes. I had been working on it for a couple of weeks, but we're good to go. Unsurprising is the fact that very few of these takeaways are academic - instead, most of them are about the college experience itself, life, and what exactly we're doing here. Or something like that. Here we go!
Freshman year, fall semester
Calculus I: Even professors don't want to have class at 2:30 on Fridays
Computer Science: Knowing your way around a computer program will pay off greatly...eventually
French I: I probably learned more English grammar by taking French than I did taking English
Literature: Always be asking yourself of the implications of something
Religious Studies: Anything can be sacred to anyone
Freshman year, spring semester
Calculus II: There's value in skipping a 2:30 Friday class when it's gorgeous outside
Developmental Psychology: Professors will believe you if you lie about a doctor's appointment to avoid death in Shark Attack
French II: I'm probably never going to speak French again
History: Theodore Roosevelt was a badass
Philosophy: Nothing is absolute, not even that
Sophomore year, fall semester
Calculus III: It's not about memorizing material, it's about knowing where in the book to go to understand it
Intro to Music: Reading sheet music is a necessary evil that must be practiced often
Language of Math: Be cautious of the use of words such as 'every' and 'never'
Public Speaking: The more prepared you are, the less scary public speaking is
Stats for Psych: It's worth spending even 30 seconds of your day reflecting
Sophomore year, spring semester
Discrete Math: Night classes that are 2.5 hours long are not a good idea
Intro to Sociology: You'll run into a professor who you know will grade generously, but remember that that's only if you do the work
Linear Algebra: Graphing calculators become useful for the first time since 10th grade when you need to do matrix multiplication
Combinatorics: A class is far more enjoyable when it's the professor's favorite area of study
Gender & Sexuality: No one gets to speak on behalf of an entire race, gender, sex, ethnicity, population, or group. Support them, but don't speak for all of them
Psychology Capstone: If life-hacking were a college class, it would be taught under psychology. Everything is psychology
Sport Psychology: We would be much better instructors if we told people what to do instead of what not to do
Theories of Learning: Punishment stops behavior; reinforcement changes it
Senior year, spring semester
Abnormal Psychology: Not caring how well you do sometimes gets you just as far as caring does
Cognitive Psychology: Take enough upper-level psychology courses and you'll think of something every week out of school you once learned
Math Thesis: Sometimes, the bare minimum is perfectly fine
Sabermetrics Directed Study: Knowing your way around a computer program will pay off greatly...eventually
It's been a while since I had a two-part blog post, and a while since I blogged about Stonehill, and a while (previous post excepted) since I blogged about music. So why not do all three right now?
The best tradition that happened while I was at Stonehill was the FQH party at the end of each semester. For the last hour before 24-hour quiet hours during finals (so we're talking mid-December and early May), and last two hours our senior year, we would all get together, and have a grand celebration of noise. We were sticking it to quiet hours while we still had the time, stemming from a fun little incident freshman year that involved the future namesake for said tradition. (Write a letter to the editor (that's me) if you have no idea what I'm talking about.) As soon as 10 pm hit, we were quiet and on our way with whatever we would do next. Usually just retreat to our individual rooms, now that I think about it. Anyway, in a direct tie to my previous post about music you listen to if you can never listen to music again, here are the final four songs of our FQH playlist, in chronological order.
A couple years ago I asked on my blog what the first pick in the draft of all the songs ever would be for any given listener. The answers were varied, but the persistent theme was that each song was important to each listener. Now, I ask a question on the other side of the coin - what would you listen to if you were going to be unable to ever listen to music again? Here's what I have on my final playlist, in no particular order:
Piano Man - Billy Joel
Maybe it's because 60 Peer Mentors sang this three summers in a row. Maybe it's because the senior class sang it at formal during Cape Week. Maybe it's because any bar playing this song will have everyone singing along to it. Whatever the reason, Piano Man is a song that you sing at the top of your lungs, every time, and unifies you with everyone else you're singing it with.
Your Hand In Mine - Explosions in the Sky
As much as I play up the first two songs on The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place (go ahead, look up any of the nine blog posts with direct references to it), Your Hand In Mine is the one that I'll always stay in love with. There's something about it that reminds me of perfect innocence; a sweet bliss to close your eyes to and be in peaceful harmony with.
Ocean - John Butler Trio
There are a number of versions of Ocean that I could choose from for this, but the one I'm going with is the first version I ever heard. It's the shortest version and also the simplest of the Oceans that John Butler has played. Again, I have a connection to many versions of this song, but the first time I saw what John Butler was about, with the raw emotion and putting his physical willpower into the song, I knew I would never stop listening.
Awake My Soul - Mumford & Sons
The mental image that I will always have while listening to the end of this song is driving on the highway, singing as loud as possible, the music even louder. This is one of those songs that gets me that stars-burning-through-sheets-of-clouds feeling, an invincibility that cannot be broken.
Layla - Derek & The Dominos
This is the one song that was always on this list. Some songs just missed the cut (One Headlight, Postcard From 1952, How's It Going To Be) and others were debated, but Layla has always been number one on this list. It's the painful guitar solos, it's the four-minute piano part, it's the birds chirping at the end; it's everything. I know that I've said before that I would be content leaving this world to the end of First Breath After Coma, but leaving existence as I know it to the end of Layla is just as good.
So, there it is. The Pantheon of songs that I would listen to if music were never to be a thing again. Some of this you might agree with; or, you might have a different idea of songs you'd listen to one final time. What would they be?
