Have you ever heard a song so powerful that it made you stop and just think for a few minutes?
Just about all of us have, I’m sure. Some couples have an “our song.” When it plays they are taken back to when they were first dating and a feeling of romance wells up between them. Sometimes a song will fit just perfectly with a friend or family member, and every time you hear it, you think of that person. Music can bring back a flood of memories, both happy and sad. Some will expose emotions long thought sealed up in a room somewhere with the intent that it never again see the light of consciousness. Some will tear open new wounds on top of old ones. Some will be uplifting and make us joyful and happy. Some will lull us into a melancholy state while other will make us want to sing along and tap our feet to the beat.
Kenny Chesney wrote and sang a song about just that.
Music is very powerful. Chesney mentions his friend who died in his teens in a number of his songs. You can tell that he really loved the guy. Music is cathartic. For both the singer and the listener. It is expressive on levels few other forms of communication can match. It has rhythm, tempo, and rhyme. It has volume, attitude, and emotion. It has style, character, and power. It is a way to exorcise our demons and express what we are feeling in any given moment. With music, was share our lives, or live vicariously through others. It memorializes forever that which we want to be remembered for all time.
There are two songs that readily come to mind that evoke vivid memories for me. Tanya Tucker’s song It’s a Little Too Late reminds me of my high school days when my best friend’s girlfriend was coming on to me. Books & Dunn’s Only in America reminds me of a particular high school graduation.
Not my own.
My wife and I ran a small, private, Christian school of 50 – 60 kids for several years. This particular school year was a horrible one for us in the way it ended. I had just been diagnosed with a neurological disorder. Not Huntington’s, but something quite similar. The medication I had been taking quit working. When I gave the graduation address to a standing room only crowd, I sounded like an absolute idiot. I could barely maintain a coherent thought and getting the words out of my mouth was quite challenging. Very embarrassing. My wife was sick with a fever of 105.2. We’d decorated the hall for the reception of over 300 people, but didn’t attend it that year. In fact, we didn’t even help with cleanup the next day. My wife ended up in the hospital with a serious kidney infection, made all them more frightening in light of the fact that she has only one kidney.
Why does that Brooks and Dunn song call forth those memories? My whole address was based on that song. Every year we did a PowerPoint presentation with pictures of our kids from baby right on up through high school graduation wearing their caps and gowns. That song was the first that was supposed to play during the presentation. It was also the foundation for my address. But it didn’t play. Nobody heard it. So on top of sounding like a blabbering fool, my audience had no frame of reference for what I was saying. Meanwhile, my wife was sitting in the front row looking like death warmed over. That evening couldn’t have ended soon enough for either of us.
I could probably list songs I have put in other PowerPoints for other graduations, but I would never be able to tell you anything about what happened during those evenings that was in any way associated with the music I had chosen.
Think about the power of music and the way it influences your life, how you feel, or your outlook on your own existence. What do you listen to when your in different moods? Are you looking to pull yourself out of a bad mood, maintain a happy one, or wallow in the pits of self-pity and regret?
Remember when Bubba shot the jukebox because it played a sad song that made him cry? Have you ever changed the station because you didn’t like the effect the song was having on you, how it was making you feel, or what it made you think of?
It’s all fair game. We’ve all done each of those things.