Expectations Within Music

                U-2. Years ago I was given, made aware ( ? ), of two songs by, then, a new group by the name of U-2. One song entitled ' BAD ' was of particular interest as it was recorded live, and somehow seemed a bit more soulful with Bono and all's participation within the experience and environment. Over the years, but more so during my collage years ( HA ! ), I must of listened to the track, at least a thousand times, if not millions; repeatedly. In bursts of creation along with the company of a bunch of guys that spoke funny but at absolute command of gifts given and lesson's learnt of life, and a passion found therein. The combined talent of this ' new fab four ' was never emulated, in terms of a direction, my art was to aspire in my own mind and then translated by my talent. U-2 gave me a place to go, ' a zone 'to work out problems of my past, but also I listened from time to time. A verse or two, a voice in tune that spoke of work engaged with life and an endless melody driven of guitar based upon a foundation of drums of voice. A talent of mind to give strings of the soul; meeks the purchase. I have always felt their sound to be of the heart. 

               My talent, also given, but side tracked by addictions of lateral platitudes in the sense of never trying to be heard with ambitious cause other than alcohol and the environments they ensue. " Just phallic symbols, " my art as once described, an opinion unwarranted in nature. I've learned much from this band's music and the atmospheres helped created. Push forward, faith. And also endless thought processes in conjunction with the pivot of a single word, next to note, reexamined again as the next, as conjuncture in silent melody in paint and steel. Then one day I stopped drinking, partly planed, the rest shock and this world, loud and without song.

               Thank you U-2 for ' No Line On The Horizon.' And also thanks to the guy who gave me the song ' BAD,'though reexamined in the ' midst's' of the crowd; a song, I was told was of addiction. A nice guy, a black man before I learned the word ' Nigger 'then, in this city, now just a man; a nice guy.' The Joshua Tree,' I had, I didn't know they did anything earlier or ' live.'

                

              ' Fresh breath after Coma ' by Explosions in the Sky. All of this group's music is exceptional. A group I know little of with exception of their home town Austin, Texas. You have to listen to these guys to believe the subtle intensities and depths of gentle rifts gliding throw the clouds of ambient sound, seemingly without effort or course, unhampered in duration and by time. Simplistically complex in beauty, as in echo with whales and dolphins.

               M.I.A.'s ' paper planes,' and other songs from her debut album and second offering are outstanding as of the heights of artistic documentary relative to social mishaps we all share, whether it be in poverty or social inequality, but her, with a sense of grace found in song and command of lyric. A ' moving ' demand in plea for what it is to be a woman of voice, despite all odds and somehow with the realization that no matter what, she'll succeed, clothed in purpose and making her mark. Strides ripped in off beat tones thundering in unison; as contrary vocals in the undertow drive the waves ashore.  She is but ART. Be safe M.I.A. 

                

                I never tried to write about music I liked before, because, well I like it. Don't know if I described them well, I almost always become the ' feeling 'and rise above my work as art; thus also welcomed from above. Music's not necessary in all that is electric, but it sure is nice to recognize sanity's voice sometimes.