Showing posts with label heat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heat. Show all posts

Monday, December 24, 2012

Love

"You've got the cool water/ When the fever runs high," Simon wrote in the song "Something So Right." He returns to that imagery many years later, in this languid song, which begins "Cool me/ Cool my fever high."

Here, the speaker continues "Hold me when I cry," indicating that love can be passionate, but also compassionate. 

"I need it so much/ Makes you want to get down and crawl like a beggar/ For its touch," Again, the desire is so intense, that, like an illness, it makes one lose one's inhibitions and dignity.

The irony, of course, is that this wonderful, fever-reducing, anxiety-erasing "drug" is "free as air!" It costs nothing-- nothing material, anyway-- to love someone. "Like plants, the medicine is everywhere," refers to the idea that many of our most common healing agents, from aloe to aspirin, come from plants (aspirin comes from willow bark). In this sense, love as as available as something that grows naturally from the earth.

Well, that's what happens when you don't have love. What about when you do? "Makes you want to laugh out loud when you receive it/ And gobble it like candy." It's so easy to find, and hard to get, that if we do, we tend to overindulge and make ourselves sick on it!

"We think it’s easy/ Sometimes it’s easy/ But it’s not easy." This three-stage realization is key. When we are not in relationships, it seems like everyone else is. What we forget is that, when we are in relationships, life is not necessarily any less complex. And when you have love, the question is how to keep it. "You’re going to break down and cry," it seems, either way.

Those who give love, knowing how much the other '"craves" it, can use it to control the other, telling them that they are "not important" and that they "should be grateful." This puts the beloved in a seat of power. When I have what you want, you will do what I want to get what I have.

In the In the Blue Light version of the lyrics, Simon softens the idea of unimportance a bit. Instead of being unimportant in the eyes of others, subjectively, we are all objectively unimportant-- transient and mortal: "We're only here for a season of sunlight." 

So far, Simon does not paint a very happy picture of love. It is almost a drug, creating self-destructive, but coercive, desires. Unlike most love songs, it does not celebrate the emotion as much as lament it. 

But until this point, his focus is on interpersonal relationships. Then he shifts to geopolitics and history. Oh. he sighs, how high is "The price that we pay/ When evil walks the planet/ And love is crushed like clay."

The last lines use the imagery of the Nazis, who called themselves the "master race" and the Jews, the "chosen people," they committed virulent genocide against. But by speaking of these elements in plural, Simon broadens the concept of genocide to all throughout history who have declared themselves master races and lashed out against others in their imagined superiority. 

"The burning temples," are those of the Jews destroyed during Kristallnacht, the city-wide pogrom that initiated the Holocaust. But they are also all those from the Holy Temples in Jerusalem sacked by the Babylonians and Romans to the synagogues, churches, mosques, and ashrams that have been set fire to over all of human history. Very early in his folk career, Simon even wrote a song called "A Church is Burning," about a spate of arson attacks of black churches in the American south in the 1960s. Even today, houses of worship are regularly targeted by hateful violence.

The last words, "the weeping cathedrals," might refer to the response, over the years, by those who were not targeted (this time), but who said only that "this is a terrible tragedy" and that "something must be done."

However, in the In the Blue Light version, Simon eschews this whole historical retrospective, and replaces it with a self-help-ish affirmation: "When daybreak's hopes have come and gone/ Just love yourself, and pass it on." Pain comes from expecting love from others and being disappointed when it does not materialize, he seems to day. Instead, rely on yourself and be a giver instead of waiting to receive. 

This song, despite its title, seems not to be about "love" but about its absence. On a personal level, a lack of love can drive a person to despair and desperation. On the global level, a lack of love leads to an inhumane, and inhuman, attack on one's fellow humans. Such killers see the other as less than human, while they themselves are the ones who have abandoned their claims to humanity.

Next song: Pigs, Sheep and Wolves


Monday, June 4, 2012

Ten Years

Another relatively obscure song, unless you watch daytime television. In that case, you may recall Oprah Winfrey's talk show opening with this song a while back, written as it was in honor of the show's 10th anniversary.

The song begins in the second person, but with the same image that began "Call me Al": "You are moving on a crowded street." The next line recalls one from "What a Wonderful World," which spoke of how "The colors of the rainbow.../ are also on the faces of the people going by." Simon summarizes this as "Through various shades of people."

Despite the crowds and the sweltering temperatures, you are preoccupied with other matters; there is a "A story in your eye." What can you do about this?

Talking about it (on TV, maybe?) might help: "Well, speak until your mind is at ease."

"Ten years come and gone so fast/ I might as well have been dreaming," Anyone who has been married, or in a job, or having raised a child for that long can attest to this... as can other songs ("Sunrise, Sunset" from Fiddler on the Roof comes to mind.)

But the time has not always been pleasant: "Sunny days have burned a path/ Across another season." The image of the sun "burning" seems more in place with the early S&G cover "The Sun in Burning" than Simon's solo song "Was a Sunny Day," with its imagery of happy people and "birdies" twittering.

The line "A fortune rises to the sky" seems somewhat cruel, as if Oprah had become a billionaire just for the heck of it. I'm not saying she didn't, just that if you are writing a song in someone's honor you could phrase that observation more politely... or just ignore it. Then again, it may not be piles of money, but the other sense of "fortune": luck.

The next verse is more grim. There is a "an empty road," and "a shady river," images that could be either positive or negative..."When the sky turns dark as stone/ And the trees begin to shiver." 

But, luckily, "The grace of God is nigh... And that flash has never been forgotten." God's grace, rather than being, well, graceful, is seen as a "flash," as of lightning. Even if it is not harsh, it is certainly fleeting.

This surprisingly cynical song then grows more serious, and asks a question that is central to much of Winfrey's work: "How do the powerless survive?" Yes, she occasionally interviewed a celebrity, or gave away high-end gifts. But much of her show was concerned with asking guests how they had survived seemingly impossible situations.

He answers his own question: "A familiar light/ burning in the distance/ The love that never dies." While this love is eternal, it is not seen as divine; that sort of love was dismissed as a "flash" in the pan-- enduring in memory alone. This other, human "light," like is seen as "burning" like the sun-- it is "distant" yet constant, and therefore more reliable, in terms of helping "powerless" people themselves survive their ordeals.

The song is full of the imagery of heat and light. The heat in the first verse is oppressive, so much so that the "shade" in the second verse seems a welcome respite. Throughout, we have the imagery of the Sun "burning a path"-- we get the image of a ray of fire actually "blazing" a trail with its heat. Then the same word, "burning," is used to indicate the love that never dies, which inspires similar indomitablity in those who see its flame.

This is a bit... off. I see Dr. Phil as the one who seeks to cure by the cauterizing fire of intense honesty, while his mentor, Oprah, sought to heal by light, not heat. Perhaps our focus, in the phrase "A familiar light/ burning," we should be on the word "light," not "burning"... and maybe the word should have been "glowing" this time?

Then again, Simon could be making a point. Sure, we see Oprah's smile beaming from our TVs. But let's not forget, even if it is "distant," the fiery passion of her drive. Yes, to amass wealth, but also to simply help people. She could have stayed at the Jerry Springer level of talk-show discourse. She chose not to, and forced the industry to change to her vision.

Personally, I am not a huge Oprah fan, but we should give her her due. On the balance, her show did much more good than harm. If nothing else, she got people to read again with that book club of hers.

One last note-- Simon often goes for the perfect rhyme, and here there is abundant slant rhyme: fast/path, road/stone, life/light, season/dreaming/forgotten, ease/sky/nigh/survive/dies. It could be that this was a rush job, or that rhyme was less important this time, given the variety of topics Oprah covered over a decade. 

Next song: Rockabilly Music 

Monday, June 27, 2011

How the Heart Approaches What it Yearns

The word "approach" is in the title, but mostly what happens in the song is the "yearning" part.

In this love song, it is unclear whether the speaker has broken up with the woman in his "dream," or if they have never had a romantic relationship to begin with. He does know her-- he can "distinctly hear" her voice, and is perhaps a friend. (In the version on In the Blue Light, the line becomes "I can hear your secret voice," implying intimacy, not simple acquaintanceship.)

But whether they were a couple before or not, they are not, now. And this is making him both "blue" with disappointment and "feverish" with desire.

The song is rich with the imagery of places. It begins in a motel room. The speaker is probably lying on his bed with the TV on, but he is not watching it. He is lost in thought, "wondering" how to "approach" what he "yearns" for. Then the song moves to "the side of the road," "the top of a hill," and a "phone booth at a local bar-and-grill" (in the In the Blue Light version, it becomes a "downtown bar-and-grill.")

There are even abstract places, like a "fever" and a "dream."

The song is also replete with the image of heat. First, the television passively "burns." Then, he has a "fever"-ish dream, from which he cannot wake. In the dream, there is "heat" and "fire."

After the speaker tells us about ignoring the TV and having his intense dream, the song shifts focus to another character, "a bone-weary traveler." Is this an actual person, or a dream image? Is the traveler the speaker himself? We know that he is in a hotel, so he is himself traveling. But he is not "by the side of the road," he is safe in a hotel bed. Unless he feels like he is "waiting by the side of the road."

About this man, the speaker wonders, "Where's he going?" If it's the speaker, we presume that he is in a motel as a stop-over on the way to a known destination. So if the question is metaphorical, the "where" could refer to where he is going in life-- toward his dream-woman or away from her.

Incidentally, it is "after the rain." This water image counters the hot images found elsewhere.

Now, we get to the dream. He does not dream that he and his would-be lover are marginalized "by the side of the road. Quite the opposite-- they are "lying on top of a hill," and are evidently making love. Again, the imagery is of heat: "Your voice is the heat of the night/ I'm on fire." (The In the Blue Light version eliminates the "I'm on fire" line. While this line predates the Springsteen song with this title by four years, that song is much more famous and Simon might have felt he would sound like he was quoting Springsteen instead of vice versa. Or maybe he just thought it was cliche.)

Notably, the entire line "I dream we are lying on the top of a hill" is not sung in the In the Blue Light version. The lack of this line, however, means it much less clear that the "rolling" business is only a dream. It could be an extension of the line "emerging from a dream, the dream returns" but there is a whole bridge about a "traveler" in between now. That, coupled with the knowledge of the "secret" voice, seems to imply the woman in question was a close friend or even a former lover, not just a passing acquaintance.

Enough "yearning"-- time to "approach." He calls her on a pay telephone at a bar. He does not get through, and his coin returns. He "approached," but so far he has not "reached."

He is in a state of coolness and passivity except when thinking about this woman. Aside from the cold/hot images, we have various verbs relating to passivity, lack of movement. When fantasizing of her, he "wonders," he "hears" (he never speaks to anyone in the course of the song), the traveler "waits," and he "rehearses," (but again does not get the chance to speak or perform).

But when he imagines himself with her, he becomes more active, and sees himself "rolling" in her arms. Ultimately, even in the case, he does not see himself as active-- he is in her arms-- she is holding and encompassing him, in his conception of the embrace, when presumably they would be holding each other. Alternately, the line could be "I roll you in my arms," in which case he would be the active one.

Two verbs more are repeated. One is the word "returns." First, the dream-- the one so intense he cannot wake from it-- returns (in the In the Blue Light version, her "voice" returns). Then when he tries to call his dream lover, his coin returns as well. He is moving in circles, returning and returning and never progressing-- yearning and approaching but never attaining.

Then the line "headlights slide past the Moon" is repeated in its entirety. Both the headlights and the Moon are round and yellowish and glow in the night. As enormous as the Moon is, is can appear as small as a headlight in perspective.

So we have the contrast of one light staying still, and a set of two lights moving "past" it and leaving it behind. This might be a symbol for his situation and desire. If he is one light, like the Moon, he stays in place-- wondering and waiting "by the side of the road." But if he were paired with her as headlights are, the two would "slide"-- with no friction-- on the "interstate," right past such a lonely moon... or roadside traveler.

Even the roadway itself is different to him when he sees himself with her. When one is "waiting on the side," it's just "a road." But to those "sliding" along it together, it is a sleek, wide "interstate."

Ultimately, he is no further along at the end of this series of events than when he started. The question is, now that his coin has returned, does he return to the phone booth to try her number again? Has his courage been permanently raised?

Well, there is no more imagery of heat, or movement, in this verse. Even the bar is "some local" one. So has this simple disappointment brought him back down to the level of despair again? Yeah, that's more likely the case.

In the version

Next Song: Oh, Marion