little boots: tiny steps of transcendence

A  dredging of the sediment. Intriguing relational experiences from a remote and obscure past, one not easily discerned, and only mistily intangible.  Do we find ourself in the song so that it represents ourself ?….

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I remember all the things she did before
I remember all the times she cried
I remember all the things you promised her
I know it hurt, I remember all the times you lied

Don’t meddle with her heart, meddle with her mind
Meddle with the things that are inside
You don’t know what you’ll find
You don’t know what she hides

So don’t go messing with her heart or messing with her mind
Or messing with the things that are inside
You don’t know what you’ll find
You don’t know what she hides

She still remembers like it’s yesterday
She still remembers you so well
She still remembers all the things you saw forever more
She still remembers but won’t tell

‘Cause she’s a mixed up girl in a mixed up world
And you know she don’t mean any harm
[- From : -]
So please understand if you take her hand
You’ll get much more than you bargained for…

Do we project ourself onto the music on the basis of an unconscious identification with the artist. It might only be a momentary and fragmentary flash of illusion, a fleeting image of resemblance which suggests an emotional affinity. So, perhaps music, a given song can symbolize an internal object intrinsic to us, the listener. Or, perhaps its simply a pale substitute- what Walter Benjamin would call a weak messiah- a lost, forgotten object, discarded representing what has come to seem unrepresentable, un-articulable but connected to something with primitive emotional anchorage.

---Benjamin:A Klee drawing named “Angelus Novus” shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe that keeps piling ruin upon ruin and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress. Read More:

Ultimately, a wish for closeness and intimacy,complicity, perhaps attachment and an expectation of reciprocity. The face to face of Levinas applied to revoking and denying the distance between artist and listener and the very chance nature of their pairing. It does suggest something of the inevitable, the memorable, something that beckons and has existed from the beginning of time and will survive into eternity or the end which ever comes first. Its all about the transcendence of chance, making deals with the angel of coincidence, or Benjamin’s angel of history. A regressive fantasy existing only in the psyche?

This entry was posted in Feature Article, Ideas/Opinion, Modern Arts/Craft, Music/Composition/Performance and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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