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I am in love. Deeply in love. My new toy will undoubtedly make this week’s cross-country jaunt -- complete with airport delays and layovers -- considerably more tolerable (as well as all future expeditions, cross-country or elsewhere). Sad how such a small, inconsequential piece of metal can elicit so much pleasure. Like I wrote yesterday, it's the little things.
Listening to the Beach Boys yesterday for the first time in months, I felt the familiar twinge of longing that music evokes more easily and often from me than any other medium. There are two songs on Pet Sounds that have particular impact on me. The first, “You Still Believe in Me," has always left me contemplative and melancholy, since its lyrics are so apropos for anyone who’s ever been in love and not always headed for happily ever after (that includes just about all of us, hence the genius of the songwriter). As much as I relate to the song from the point of view of the singer, I’ve never actually been in his position (the Believee), rather, I’ve only ever been relegated to the other side of the equation (the Believer); not entirely bad, but lonely nonetheless. Not that I’ve never had someone believe in me; just that I’ve never had someone believe in me unconditionally or, more realistically, without fail. I imagine this makes little sense to those who haven’t heard the song, but suffice it to say, it reaches deep, at least for me.
Feeling somewhat downhearted this past week or so, I made two or three repeat listens to possibly my favorite Brian Wilson song, “I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times,” a piece of music that has resonated deeply with me since my high school years, when I first recognized and became conscious of the distinct possibility that I was born into an era wholly unbefitting of my character, intelligence and demeanor. Unfortunately, while I’ve spent a considerable many afternoons and scores of sleepless nights contemplating which period in history I'd have been better suited to, I have yet to formulate a concrete answer to the mystery of “Where do I belong?” or, more to the point, “Who the fuck am I and why must I be so achingly different from the Normal People?”
But back to Brian Wilson for a second. Lyrically, “I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times” is among his most brilliant, meditative compositions – it spoke to millions of people just like me, who were (and continue to be) somewhat lost in the world. The song has a profound impact on me, as someone who can relate on a number of different levels to Wilson singing “Each time things start to happen again/I feel I’ve got something good going for myself/But what goes wrong?” And, I suppose, it’s still apropos even 30+ years later, encompassing everything from the early mysteries of growing up to the imbalance of emotional maturity that just about everyone faces as they continue along the path.
Posted by ayelet at September 15, 2003 01:58 PM