I love music. This is despite the fact that I don’t seem to have any easily identifiable musical talents myself. I also love that it’s a universal thing for music to have certain effects on people – across age, class, culture or other. It matters little that I don’t seem to like every type of music. Every type and variety of music will be palatable, and more, to someone. Diversity; living in a world which contains many worlds, that diversity can only be described as a universal richness.
It’s not only that music can make me feel good, or help me work through various types of emotions and frames of mind – whether good or bad or something in between. Music summons memories and fashions vivid visions of situations of the past. It brings forth details of where or with whom I was at the time of remembrance. I often even remember - to an extent that can surprise me – detailed accounts of what I was thinking or what my outlook on life was in certain moments which spring to mind when I hear certain songs. Music to me is not about relaxation. It’s about reflection.
Every now and then – and I think this goes for most people – I get a very special tingling from a given musical experience. A sensation of the kind I cannot easily describe; though of the kind I don’t think is necessary to describe. Whether it’s due to the circumstances or setting, this is a moment which moves something in you; enthrals you.
I thought I’d try to share two such moments of mine.
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In a previous post I’ve tried to describe the shock 22 July 2011 was to everyone who sees beauty in diversity. Multiculturalism and solidarity was being attacked by bigoted simplicism (I use that word although it’s an invented one, as I think it describes my thought well enough). Not to be rocked though, as both multiculturalism and solidarity are and will continue to be standing their ground. The response of the people directly and indirectly affected proved that without a whiff of doubt.
Solidarity... On the 21 of August on the National Commemoration Day of 22 July, the Norwegian band Karpe Diem performed most memorably the song which had come to symbolise that response of solidarity, both to me and surely many others. It was one of those moments when the music sparked that special feeling in me.
It’s not only that music can make me feel good, or help me work through various types of emotions and frames of mind – whether good or bad or something in between. Music summons memories and fashions vivid visions of situations of the past. It brings forth details of where or with whom I was at the time of remembrance. I often even remember - to an extent that can surprise me – detailed accounts of what I was thinking or what my outlook on life was in certain moments which spring to mind when I hear certain songs. Music to me is not about relaxation. It’s about reflection.
Every now and then – and I think this goes for most people – I get a very special tingling from a given musical experience. A sensation of the kind I cannot easily describe; though of the kind I don’t think is necessary to describe. Whether it’s due to the circumstances or setting, this is a moment which moves something in you; enthrals you.
I thought I’d try to share two such moments of mine.
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In a previous post I’ve tried to describe the shock 22 July 2011 was to everyone who sees beauty in diversity. Multiculturalism and solidarity was being attacked by bigoted simplicism (I use that word although it’s an invented one, as I think it describes my thought well enough). Not to be rocked though, as both multiculturalism and solidarity are and will continue to be standing their ground. The response of the people directly and indirectly affected proved that without a whiff of doubt.
Solidarity... On the 21 of August on the National Commemoration Day of 22 July, the Norwegian band Karpe Diem performed most memorably the song which had come to symbolise that response of solidarity, both to me and surely many others. It was one of those moments when the music sparked that special feeling in me.
The lyrics are in Norwegian, so I’ll take the liberty here to describe a few key elements in short. The lead guy says before the song: “Dear Norway, I'm a Muslim, Chirag (the other guy) is a Hindu, and our friends look like a box of Non-Stop (Norwegian candy, just like M&Ms). But we've never felt as Norwegian and as little different as we have since 22 July. Something has changed, and perhaps it's naive, but I wish that change would last forever. A few years ago I wrote a song about tolerance. It's called 'Tusen tegninger' (A thousand images), and it goes like this..."
What I read from his brief introduction (the change to which he refers) is the vastly increased acceptance among Norwegians that the country by now factually is a multicultural society consisting of an array of personal, cultural and religious beliefs. In the song he sings about how he's felt pre-judged for being a Muslim, and that he wants tolerance for his person; not the often knowledge-less and prejudiced judgement many have tended to extend based along religion, colour, or other traits that make people seem different. Calling for (I would say universal) tolerance, he says towards the end that: "If it makes us do good deeds, allow me to believe in God", before summing up his lyrics by stating that "one word says more than a thousand images". I’ll leave it up to the individual reader to assert which word or conceptualisation best says more than a thousand images.
Regardless of what someone believes, I adore the lyrics and the song. I find the lyrics very powerful, and coupled with the painful setting in which I discovered it, it’s come to symbolise a great deal to me.
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The other musical moment I wanted to mention is of a very different character. But I find it moving nonetheless, because the topic the song treats is – just like the former entry – one of solidarity. In January 2012, a Norwegian commercial TV network began airing an original show, the basic idea of which is to have 7 selected musicians pay tribute to each other’s work. They each get one evening in which the other artists are to perform their own personalised version of one song of said artist.
First artist in the ‘hot seat’ was veteran singer/songwriter/troubadour Halvdan Sivertsen (my dictionary informs me the term ‘troubadour’ in medieval times was often given to poet-musicians of knightly rank - Halvdan Sivertsen can’t be far off knightly rank by now...).
The rapper, Vinni, from Paperboys delivered the stand-out contribution.
What I read from his brief introduction (the change to which he refers) is the vastly increased acceptance among Norwegians that the country by now factually is a multicultural society consisting of an array of personal, cultural and religious beliefs. In the song he sings about how he's felt pre-judged for being a Muslim, and that he wants tolerance for his person; not the often knowledge-less and prejudiced judgement many have tended to extend based along religion, colour, or other traits that make people seem different. Calling for (I would say universal) tolerance, he says towards the end that: "If it makes us do good deeds, allow me to believe in God", before summing up his lyrics by stating that "one word says more than a thousand images". I’ll leave it up to the individual reader to assert which word or conceptualisation best says more than a thousand images.
Regardless of what someone believes, I adore the lyrics and the song. I find the lyrics very powerful, and coupled with the painful setting in which I discovered it, it’s come to symbolise a great deal to me.
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The other musical moment I wanted to mention is of a very different character. But I find it moving nonetheless, because the topic the song treats is – just like the former entry – one of solidarity. In January 2012, a Norwegian commercial TV network began airing an original show, the basic idea of which is to have 7 selected musicians pay tribute to each other’s work. They each get one evening in which the other artists are to perform their own personalised version of one song of said artist.
First artist in the ‘hot seat’ was veteran singer/songwriter/troubadour Halvdan Sivertsen (my dictionary informs me the term ‘troubadour’ in medieval times was often given to poet-musicians of knightly rank - Halvdan Sivertsen can’t be far off knightly rank by now...).
The rapper, Vinni, from Paperboys delivered the stand-out contribution.
Again, the lyrics are in Norwegian, so I’ll give some brief input of my understanding of it. First, the title - Sommerfuggel i Vinterland - literally means ‘Butterfly in Winterland’ (I should note further that the word butterfly in Norwegian, sommerfugl or sommerfuggel in Sivertsen’s dialect, would translate directly into ‘summer bird’). Again, the overriding topic has to do with solidarity. We can all imagine what he meant by the formulation ‘summer bird in winterland’; written in the 1980s as Sivertsen’s original version was, during the earlier days of immigration from the global South to Norway. It’s a very powerful and long-lasting contribution against the foolish behaviour that is racism or racial discrimination, and it has long since become ingrained in Norwegian culture.
You can see the veteran troubadour brought close to tears when he realises what he’s witnessing; the passing on of the gem of his life’s work onto yet another generation. It means that much to him, and it’s a moment of musical experience which gave me that feeling inside to which I don’t feel compelled to put words.
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Music can describe a feeling, a situation, a context or a dream in ways which more rational and ‘harder’ forms of description can never hope to equal. What’s more; music portrays diversity. Music is a most actual exemplification of the diversity our world contains. I love music...because we live in a world which contains many worlds. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Prob'ly its too fair- the world
ReplyDeleteAnd there should be no antidote
Its perfect for its shoes maybe
But if you can unearth any, please, I look out for it in your blogs. Thought this activity's addictive_
Your good fan.