A song ends precisely when I get to wherever it is I'm driving. This morning on my way to work, I was in one of those moods where I decide that I'm just going to let my iPod shuffle its way gleefully through my collection. Sometimes I sit there with my hand at the ready, skipping furiously from song to song, passing over dozens at a time, until I reach one I'm content to hear. Sometimes it's a song that I want to sing along to, or sometimes it's a song that happens to hit me just right, emotionally. This morning, it was both, and I didn't even have to choose. I was a little under 10 minutes away from work, just about to get off I-69. I was tired, I was drowsy, I was groggy, I was grumpy.
The soft pitter-patter of the introduction to "Transatlanticism" by Death Cab for Cutie (from Transatlanticism, 2003) put a smile on my face. The lyrics are incredible. As a singer/songwriter myself, I just don't understand how something like this is concocted. It's beyond any of my efforts. No, it's beyond all of them, combined. It's deceptively simple, but it's about something pretty profound. How was an ocean made? Easy, the clouds rained particularly hard. And the simple problem at the root of all: it puts me farther away from you.
The song builds and builds over a period of nearly 8 minutes, and once it starts going, it doesn't stop. There is no cadence, no pause, no climax. It just sails incessantly toward the inevitable conclusion. The first time I heard it, I remember feeling disappointed that it didn't explode into a climax or change into a "2 & 4" beat, but I'm embarrassed by that thought now; what's here is infinitely more effective. Also worth mentioning is the incredible seven-note guitar line that pokes its nose out between stanzas. I have written at least one guitar part that is an unabashed homage to this melody, although it's not currently available online. Maybe someday soon? [All lies. It's here now. The song in question is "If You Don't Mind" and the guitar part is in the bridge.]
Anyway, I'm derailing into a song review, but that's okay. The point is that having a song like this, which has such a profound effect on me, bring my morning commute to its precise conclusion is a pretty cool event. There's something incredibly satisfying about pulling into a parking space just as the last chord trails off into obscurity. For the record, I'm the type of person who will sit in a car for up to a minute if a particularly good song is nearly done. If it's much longer than that, I'll usually stick around to the end of the chorus. If you've ever been in a car with me, you have probably witnessed this on at least one occasion. Even if it's your car, I may have made you stick around for just a bit longer. I've also asked a friend of mine to stop talking during the solo of "All Along the Watchtower" by Jimi Hendrix. But that's not the same thing. In fact, that belongs in a different category, called "Don't Talk During the Important Parts", and that includes both music and movies. I'll hit that topic at a later time.
By the way, guys, "Don't Talk During the Important Parts" also includes, as a sub-theme, "Don't Sip Through a Straw During the Important Parts", "Don't Crinkle Wrappers or Otherwise Eat Any Food That Produces Unwanted Noise During the Important Parts", and "Don't Cough or Make Other Bodily Sounds That Can Be Avoided or Delayed During the Important Parts". I'll come back to this at a later date, but hopefully we can all take these suggestions to heart for now.
As an aside, I have really come to adore Transatlanticism in the last six months or so, with one caveat: I skip two songs. "The Sound of Settling" and "Passenger Seat". The former because it's just a pretty lame song, and the latter because, well, I just don't listen to it anymore [for mostly personal reasons].
I had this whole thought process as I was walking from my car to the building, and I thought I'd write about more little nuggets like this that just make my day, but after all this rambling, I've forgotten what any of the rest were. Maybe another day, then...
Those people were overjoyed, they took to their boats
I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat
The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door have been silenced forever more
The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
It seems farther than ever before
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