Can you hear the sounds of silence, the rich black drowning us all, velvety and smooth? It is the calm before the storm, the essential musical interlude. Listen- the sounds of evil are drawing closer. They will be well-rested, so will their metallic friends.
Daybreak, but no one notices the dazzling shimmer of light through dewdrops on grass. Their senses are clogged; nature's lyricism is lost on these men. They have their own music; stomping the dust in unison, mechanical shuffling of feet, the flat slap of rifles, explosions of fire-stop. Music is a cacophony of noises; it rings hollowly in their souls. Repetition generates enthusiasm, war cries rage stronger, in tune to bursts of a weapon that come on more ferociously than the last. All this while, the heart beats uncontrollably, there is a definite allure that is sustaining all this movement. Steel parts clang against each other, tyres groan over grass, engines vibrate violently and threaten with thick dark fumes. The result is intoxicating.
What is to stop the anguished screams of a desperate family as flames cackle and lick up what is left of a home and a dead baby trapped inside from becoming another pleasurable sound? Fire, smoke and metal feed this addiction, but never quell it. Sexual aggressions and tensions have been held down for so long, at last an avenue of release?
Night falls when the sun is forced to set. Death descends as life is forcibly removed. This is an age of false glorification. Let not the true music fade away.
Part II
It is Wednesday night and the people are partying Mambo Nite away at Zouk. The club beats so hard your heart hurts. There are no individuals; they are joined at the hip, this gruesome cosmetic tentacular creature. Such a sense of artificially created pleasure in the sounds, just as long as they squeeze your eardrums enough times. This monopoly of music has its consumers at its mercy. This is a benevolent dictatorship (And to think we would have voted a better opposition party). There are too many low-cut dresses and unbuttoned shirts, sexual imagery floods the senses and glows within us. Think it, feel it, desire it-we are inseparable, one and the same. Why resist-let's enjoy the intensity of the moment, all you need is a condom, wine and white powdery gold (May we chase the dragon?). Let me pursue this musical blitzkrieg, don't ask why, it feels so right.
Touch think wish love
Accept this love
Accepting you as you are
Believe in this love
And we will rise above
Thick and thin till the end, yeah (Janet Jackson/Feels So Right)
Part III
We always say music is the great unifier. Remember the rousing anthem "We are the world" for Africa, or "46664" the concert by Nelson Mandela to raise awareness for AIDS? Did we not ask "Where is the love" (Black Eyed Peas) after September 11? It is the democratic voice of the people. We are all part of its creative process. Music is the great leveller as well.
In Part I, I ask what happens when a more primal form of music takes over under a suppressive environment and what light this sheds on the need for a renewal of our soul to sustain our humanity. Music has this imperceptible influence on our sense of beauty and pleasure.
Part II explores the other extreme, where your senses are released fully but this freedom is willingly wiped out by sheer brute force. There is underlying aggression and brutality, but the persuasive power is just as intense. Music liberated by one is just as dangerous as music contained by all. In both we respond instinctively, music speaks and moves through us. It takes over, it leaves nothing behind.
« intoarce.