It’s 11:00 AM in the office, and I’m jamming out to some Stevie Wonder. “Golden Lady I’d like to go there” baby, yeah! (To be said in my best Bootsy Collins impression). Stevie was never much of a lyricist, but his voice sure convinced you of whatever he said. There is one bit on the “Innervisions” record I find rather intriguing. In the song “Higher Ground” it can be induced that Stevie subscribes to a reincarnation philosophy, which is unique to an African American R&B singer. “I'm so darn glad he let me try it again, Cause my last time on earth I lived a whole world of sin, I'm so glad that I know more than I knew then, Gonna keep on tryin' Till I reach the highest ground”. Hmmm.

These floating and flowing humid summer days of mine are spent reading and dreaming and playing some guitar. If only the rest of my life could be so simple and contented. Last night I went walking after a short rainstorm, the slick asphalt darkening the roads as the leftover raindrops sporadically fell from the trees. I feel as though I’m still learning how to listen to music. It is one thing to hear, and another to allow the sounds to penetrate your soul. Music, like philosophy, should change your life, not just passively make its way through it, like background noise that only occasionally sparks your interest. It should make a difference.

So many folks miss out on the beauty music can offer us in its more pure forms. I’m not an elitist to the extent that I’ll exclusively advocate pre-rock & roll genres, although I’m tempted to peer through that lens from time to time and question rock (as all good things should be examined). So what do I mean by pure forms? The answer involves distinguishing art from product.

On a technical level, there are certain aspects of commercial recording that drain the pith from music. Namely, over-compressing and auto-tuning methods can render a song “too clean” to the point that all the elements are so perfect they become inhuman (yes, imperfection is inherent and necessary in all regions of human life, not that we know any other scenario). Running the risk of an embarkation into a debate on the merits of electronic music (which I’m not opposed to at all within a certain extent), I’ll make the claim that computers have no soul; music is to be made by living breathing beings. By not appreciating these recording techniques one pigeon-holes just about everything you hear on Top 40 as a sterile product, mixed in such a way that no element is too abrasive, edgy, or threatening so as not to tip off the listener of its inanity and intellectual vapidity. The big record companies just want to give you a catchy seven note ditty that you’ll pay to hear again and again until, just as the previous hook wears out, they can sell you a new one (fortunately, the major labels are dieing an increasingly rapid death. Anyone interested in the decline of mainstream music and the various new directions should check out Bob Lefsetz’s blog at http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/).

Trying to avoid the temptation to negatively define what music is not, let’s examine what attributes real music displays. Really, it all comes down to soul. But what does that ambiguous term entail? The soul is the quintessence of all other signs of life. Just like humans, in order to be considered alive music must show some portent of consciousness. There must be breath, counterpoint, a sensitive and clear perception, sincerity, and perhaps most important, dreams and ambitions, a striving after unreached heights. It may be difficult to hear these concepts in music, but try listening to a record like you would a brand new acquaintance. Even when you first meet someone you can intuit the level of their sincerity. You often tell immediately whether they are insecure, arrogant, spunky or friendly. In this same way you must allow a song to speak to you. Depending on the music you are familiar with you may be alarmed at the inability of some records to say anything. Yet, you may also garner an entirely new perspective from a record you’ve spun a hundred times. So, don’t just listen to music on shuffle in your car or while you work out. Sit down, pick an album you enjoy, and consume it from beginning to end without distractions. You never know, you might learn something.

I had the privilege of attending a Josh Ritter concert at the Orange Peel last Friday. For me the most poignant moment of the show was his rendition of “The Temptation of Adam” from his record “The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter”http://www.joshritter.com/news.php . After strapping on an acoustic guitar as the rest of the band left the stage, he stood alone and asked for all the lights in the venue to be turned off. Then  in the dark he slowly made his way through this chilling and completely original song. I mean, seriously, have any of you heard of an amorous liaison set in a missile silo? Incredible stuff.  Here are the lyrics:

The Temptation of Adam

If this was the Cold War we could keep each other warm I said on the first occasion that I met Marie We were crawling through the hatch that was the missile silo door And I don¹t think that she really thought that much of me

I never had to learn to love her like I learned to love the Bomb She just came along and started to ignore me But as we waited for the Big One I started singing her my songs And I think she started feeling something for me

We passed the time with crosswords that she thought to bring inside What five letters spell ³apocalypse² she asked me I won her over saying ³W.W.I.I.I.² She smiled and we both knew that she¹d misjudged me

Oh Marie it was so easy to fall in love with you It felt almost like a home of sorts or something And you would keep the warhead missile silo good as new And I¹d watch you with my thumb above the button

Then one night you found me in my army issue cot And you told me of your flash of inspiration You said fusion was the broken heart that¹s lonely¹s only thought And all night long you drove me wild with your equations

Oh Marie do you remember all the time we used to take We¹d make our love and then ransack the rations I think about you leaving now and the avalanche cascades And my eyes get washed away in chain reactions

Oh Marie if you would stay then we could stick pins in the map Of all the places where you thought that love would be found But I would only need one pin to show where my heart¹s at In a top secret location three hundred feet under the ground

We could hold each other close and stay up every night Looking up into the dark like it¹s the night sky And pretend this giant missile is an old oak tree instead And carve our name in hearts into the warhead

Oh Marie there¹s something tells me things just won¹t work out above That our love would live a half-life on the surface So at night while you are sleeping I hold you closer just because As our time grows short I get a little nervous

I think about the Big One, W.W.I.I.I. Would we ever really care the world had ended You could hold me here forever like you¹re holding me tonight I look at that great big red button and I¹m tempted.

This summer I will attempt to learn to be a person again.