Your Wings Are Gonna Burn

One of the things that I try to convey to the youth of today (hahaha - I used to be "the youth of today"!) when talking about education and what the purpose of college is, or education, really, is that it's not just about getting a fucking job. If you are just trying to get a better job, you will never be truly successful in education. You might as well go to vocational school - and there's nothing wrong with that, it's just not about education or knowledge or learning - even though it is about literally learning some skills that will help you get a particular job. This song, Too Close To the Sun by The Sunset Curse, is a clear reference to the Greek myth of Icarus, who, with his father, the master craftsman, Daedalus, was stranded on the island of Crete. To get off the island, Daedalus builds wings made of wax for Icarus to wear but warns him not to fly too close to the sun.

And then what happens? You know. Human nature is all too easy to predict.

But you knew the story, anyway, because it's part of our collective knowledge or education. And here, in this song, The Sunset Curse taps into this collective knowledge to convey a truth we all understand too well without having to explain or describe. I remember when I first learned what the word, 'hubris', means. It was my least favorite teacher (least favorite in that I thought he was an asshole and he was to me, but he did teach me what he was meant to teach me) in high school English class, reading the ancient Greek play Oedipus Rex, that taught us about hubris. I thought it ironic because he seemed to possess excessive pride, himself, but he never really acted on it and thus, it never resulted in tragedy. He was just an arrogant asshole. (My classmates don't seem to agree on this point, though, so I'll just accept that maybe he was just an asshole to me and several people I cared about, and maybe not everyone else.) Ever since I learned the meaning of hubris and how it results in tragedy, I've been very conscientious of my own hubristic behaviors. Maybe even thinking that I can control it is another part of hubris.

Back to the music. It's a fun, upbeat, dancey song. It makes me want to dance. It does not feel tragic at all, such as the title and reference to the Greek myth imply. However, I think this open, up-beat, maybe even optimistic sound has more to do with the arrogance or excessive self-confidence - maybe self-importance - that is hubris...before the fall of the tragic hero. In fact, I think that's the case, since, with the repetition of the chorus,

Your wings are gonna burn

Your wings are gonna burn

Your wings are gonna burn

it suggests that the fall has not happened yet, but that it is "gonna" happen. In fact, several points in the piece have a "larger-than-life" feel, beginning with the intro - maybe this is created through the hollow reverb effect on those first few measures of break-beats before the synth melody comes in and then it diminishes by the time the guitar and vocals come in. Still, the steady beat throughout continues to have this heavy reverb effect, continuing to feel big and important.

It's hard to know if this song is meant as a warning to others or to oneself. It's not dark and angry feeling, so maybe I would take it as a warning to oneself - remember: my wings are gonna burn (if I fly too close to the sun).

Vocal Tricks & Misleading Effects

I just wanted to add a few more thoughts on my first two posts.

First, I want to mention my new favorite part in The Sun by The Naked and Famous - it's between the two verses I presented in my post. I think it is in the third verse (which I didn't post) when the monotone vocals break for a line - well, really, it's just the male's voice that breaks monotone and he actually sings the line, "Now I can't feel a thing" in a slightly higher-pitched melody, higher than the female's monotone voice. I must say - I love that!! It's just for the line but clearly it's an emphasis on that line. This technique of vocals going out of their regular range or at least reversing roles - such as a soprano singing lower than a tenor - is just so cool to me! I certainly don't think it would work for an entire song, (although, maybe it could), but I generally think it's a really beautiful way of accentuating a line or just plain changing things up a little.

Second, in They Move on Tracks of Never-Ending Light by This Will Destroy You, I realized that I may be getting confused between actual notes being played and the 'delay' effect. I absolutely love 'delay' so it's not about disliking the sound - most of the beginning of the piece sounds almost like long stretches of single notes being played using a 'delay' or 'echo' effect such that it sounds like two notes or a note with a harmonic echoing after it. In fact, that may be what's happening, but I definitely hear two notes - one main one and one softer, but different, like a lower string on the guitar being strum inbetween beats - as in, the down-up strokes where the down is louder and more dominant, on the beat, and the up is lighter, quieter and on the off-beat. However, I cannot seem to discern between the two possibilities - an 'echo' or 'delay' effect or two notes strum in that down-up fashion! I just thought I'd share my confusion because I don't mean to claim I can hear everything the way it's actually composed and played.

The End is Just Another Beginning

Since this is my launch, I've decided to add a second post to this blog, on the first day of my new music blog. The song I'm writing about here is an instrumental, They Move On Tracks of Never-Ending Light by This Will Destroy You.

If you're anything like me in that when you get into a song, you put it on repeat and listen to it over and over again to really feel it, then you'll notice that the song is a journey - a linear journey, really. You start in one place - a dark and lonely place - but you end up in a very different place - a light, free and peaceful serenity. This is a somewhat subtle effect since the whole song moves at a fairly moderate pace - not too fast, not too slow (maybe a little on the slow side) - for about seven minutes, so if you just let yourself go with it, you may forget from whence you came. It becomes obvious, however, if you have it on "repeat" and end up back at the beginning moments after the end - then you really can feel the volume of spacetime through which the piece carried you.

The other part of the song you might notice is the perpetual looping of short(ish) riffs/melodies or long, sustained chords. They layer on top of each other, seamlessly moving from one to the next via overlap. It's this quality that makes me think that I could not only write something similar, but also play it live using a looping machine and syncing it to a digital multi-track player such as Garageband. But it doesn't sound cheap or amateur - more minimalistic and inspirational (well, inspirational to me in that I am inspired to write and perform similarly). I tend to like minimalism, too. In fact, one of my own influences is Steve Reich, one of the original "minimalists" and experimental musicians. This song may have influences from him as well, at least in the musical, collective consciousness.

Another interesting point to make, and link to Steve Reich, is the clear use of the reverse-loop which runs through the end of the piece. This is a technique first developed by the early electronic, experimental musicians, such as Reich, in which you make a tape loop, then you flip it so that it plays in the reverse direction. Clearly, its resulting sound is dramatically different from the forward play, and one thing you notice is the way tones go from being spread out to a more punched, singular peak, then end suddenly. It's hard for me to articulate what I mean but imagine it like this (since sound is composed of waves): when you stick your finger in a still pond and cause at first just one dip, which then ripples out to form multiple archs and crests, the concentric circles or waves get smaller in amplitude and more spread out from each other as they move away from where you stuck your finger in the pond - that's how a sound would work in the forward direction, too, but if you were to imagine it going from being spread out to refining into a point, well that's what sound is like when played in the reverse. It's an easy-enough thing to pick out once you recognize it. The technique, as simple as it is, is employed in many, if not most, popular music today. However, today, of course, people don't use the old-fashioned tape loops - they use digital loopers which, with a button or switch, can easily reverse it or perform any number of digital manipulations to it (a.k.a. digital effects). In fact, the sound can be very similar to the sound of bowed string instruments, which is also employed in this piece. The difference is in the "attack" (initial striking of the note), or lack thereof in bowed string instrumentals, whereas for a reverse tape loop, you can hear the attack, but it's at the end of the note rather than the beginning. I'd imagine that only a trained ear would be able to discern the difference between a forward and reverse loop of a really long, sustained note played by a bowed string instrument.

There's a clear turning point in the piece, I believe, which is when the guitar riff seems to get stuck in a two note loop for an extended period of time, then some soothing synth chords come in, sounding a bit like bowed notes, then the beat finally arrives. The drum beat is not dramatic but it's colorful enough that it feels like it picks up the pace of the piece. Then it cuts out again and the next guitar riff/melody that develops and loops for the rest of the piece is clearly much more hopeful sounding than the previous riff/melody. For one, it's more than just a two-note riff, it steps down a few notes, then climbs up a couple, as if to say, "you mean, like this? This is how you pick yourself back up again?"

That's how I feel at the end of the piece, kind of humbled, kind of relieved, kind of optimistic, but not overly. I feel like, "ok, I'll try."

The trick is: don't repeat the piece after that because then you go back to the beginning...to that place where you felt hopeless.

The Unavoidable Sun

My first music blog post is on The Sun by The Naked and Famous.

This song is primarily composed of synth-sounds with vocals, effects and bass beats with some soft hi-hats. The element of this song that initially caught me is its driving beat that slowly builds with the monotone vocals, used like soft percussion, to a crescendo that is again resolved briefly in the end, back to the initial tones. The whole piece has the same daunting sense of the imminent darkness. Clearly, the title, "The Sun", is ironic. But I also think that it plays a crucial role in the momentum of the song.

 Here it comes

The unavoidable sun
weighs my head
And what the hell have I done
And you know

I don't remember a thing

I don't remember

A thing
...
Here it comes
The unavoidable sum

Of what's just happened

And what's been done

And you know

I don't remember a thing

I don't remember

A thing

The "unavoidable sun" - due to the rotation of the Earth, the sun sets at night and returns in the morning. Humans cannot control the rotation of the Earth or the gravitational pull of the Sun. The song reflects our helplessness at the mercy of Nature. But not just physics. Buried in the lyrics, and in the ominous feel of the music, there's a sense that something bad happened and maybe even the "I" did that bad thing, but "I don't remember a thing". In this lyric, one can feel the inevitability of Human Nature - specifically, the evil parts of it.

The beauty of this song is both due to the clear contrast between the title and the driving, impenetrable darkness of the vocals, eerie synth sounds, deep 4/4 bass beats, and the repetition of the lyrics:

But it keeps on coming and I stop

But it keeps on coming and I just stand still

But it keeps on coming and I just stop moving



Then, upon the climactic peak, the repeated lyrics change to:

And I run, and I run, and I run and I run.

The Sun will shed light on what happened, which will reveal the horrible truth of Human Nature. The "I" in this piece is unsure whether to accept it - let the light reveal the truth no matter how much it hurts - or whether to try to outrun it, knowing full-well it cannot be outrun. But "I" will try to outrun it anyway, merely affirming the cowardice of humanity.