(21) The Song I'll Hear in Heaven

30 Day Song Challenge! Remember...I was doing that? No... *ahem* moving ahead then...

There's a song in my playlist there (----->) that makes me happy, complexly happy, but happy nonetheless. Wanna guess?

So Far To Go.

Dilla's production was sweet and warm. If when I enter heaven it doesn't sound better than or equal to that? Does heaven's DJ take requests? Better yet, can I meet up with Dilla, Common and D'angelo and have them do it acoustic? Yeah, that's how much I love that song.

It's layers that I find so beautiful and appealing with the song. On one level you've got Common, commending his woman for being open, not just sexually but emotionally, to his love and appreciation of her body, mind and spirit. His word play is witty, playful but still delves deep (pause?) into that part of me that questions; do men notice those small things? Do they know as much as I like to think they do? Also as a woman who has trouble with trust, not only in others but in herself, the idea that a man could tap into that feeling and write a response directly to it? Perfect.

D'Angelo's piece is more of personal reminder; no matter how far I've come, there's always so much further to go. On one hand that idea terrifies me: is life just a never-ending game of leap-frog where we just leap forward off the backs of our previous accomplishments, never content with where we are? Is there ever happiness in stillness? Then on the other hand, how hopeful that thought; no matter where you are, you can still move forward, you can still go. You may be great now, but if you believe it, you can be so much greater. Wow.

Dilla's production is beautiful. Originally it's a song called "Bye" from his Donuts album. The legend around it is, knowing the end was near "Bye" was the last thing he composed. In context, hearing it by itself always makes me tear up. It interlopes Ron Isley singing a few phrases ("Don't ever say," "Goodbye," and a splicing of "I Believe"), which just touches your heart. It takes a sample of The Isley Brothers "Don't Say Goodnight" and loops it, adding heavy, heavenly bass to it. Literally, it makes me cry on it's own. But coupled with Common and D'Angelo, it makes me feel listless and hopeful, jaded but still beautiful.

I have a feeling, when I'm nearing seventy and have to wear a hearing aid, I'll still be listening to this song. I'll still be feeling complexly happy, albeit because I'm nearer to the time where it'll be time for someone else, bigger than myself to assess how far I've come. And please believe, when that beat drops in heaven, I'll know I've made it.

(15) Who Am I...

When I was a young thing in Pampers sitting in front of subwoofers and playing with old CDs, I remember hearing this bossa nova type song. I'd spend years and years hearing it in my thoughts but not knowing who it was or where it came from until I heard it again, fifteen or so years later being sampled by Mya. It sounded like this and it's remix that sounded like this.

After that I got a little obsessed. I found the producer (the often imitated but never duplicated Jay Dee), and the band (the Pharcyde). The song was called Runnin'. Later on once the dopeness of the song rendered me able to search more, I found that the snippets Jay Dee used were from a Stan Getz song Saudade Vem Correndo and fell in love with that too. So now I have five versions of essentially the same song on my iPod.

In any case, what does this say about me besides my addiction to music knowledge? Why is this song the one that defines who I am?

I'm always, always running. Not in the literal sense, because heaven knows I hate to sweat but in the way that I always seem to find something to hold me back or scare me away from the things that I desire. The chorus just repeats the same phrase, which is convientently the same phrase I always repeat to myself: Can't keep runnin' away.

I'm afraid to be myself. I'm afraid to go out in the world and fail. So I'm always running to my parents, my friends, even sometimes deeper within myself to shield myself from what I see as a big bad world out there just waiting to tear me to pieces. Over time though I have realized that I can't keep running opposite of what I want, or else, how am I ever supposed to get there?  I take smaller steps back in the direction of "right" instead of running paces back in the direction of "safe," but sometimes I worry that those small steps don't matter to those around me, or even in the scheme of things with the way people treat them like a "It's about damn time" type thing instead of a "Congratulations, keep going," type thing. Should it matter what they think anyway?

The music is pensive and thoughtful but complexly layered, things I've been called on more than one occassion. The lyrics are meaningful and relate to everybody, again, a lot like me. It has roots deep in different cultures and an infectious loop that makes you want to delve deeper into why you are who you are, why you think what you think, and why you keep running which is exactly why this song defines a big portion of who I am.

(12) Song by a Band I...

It's supposed to be a song by a band I hate by I don't necessarily hate The Dixie Chicks, I'm just not one of those Texas girls who go to rodeos and rides pick-ups with Jason Aldean and Blake Shelton blasting from the stereos. I don't do a lot of country music.

A few months ago though I heard Landslide on a Glee episode and liked it. I tried Fleetwood Mac's original and liked it more, but it didn't sound quite right to me; it was missing something that I couldn't put my finger on. When I heard the Chicks' version, I loved it; it had just the right amount of twang and emotion and it had that extra something that the other versions were missing.

(14) Unexpected Song

I'm prone to being a bit eclectic with my choices, but if I had to guess one of the songs (and groups too) that no one would expect me to like, or for that matter know, are The Black Keys.

I heard of the Black Keys a few years ago in high school when one of my choir babies said she was attending a concert of theirs. She let me listen to a few of their MP3s and I had to go and buy a few of their songs, the first one being "When the Lights Go Out."

The song is like that expression "you don't know what you have until it's gone;" the woman he's singing to is just mean and loveless and once he leaves she's going to know what she's missing. It's gritty, it's simple, and it's perfect.

It's an unexpected song from me because I usually migrate between three states of being with my music which are sexy/sensual, sad/angry, and happy/energized of which the previous doesn't fall into. Truth be told I love a lot of songs that don't fall into those categories, but this is one of the only blues songs I own. Don't get me wrong I appreciate the greats who came before like Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf and the father of allegedly selling his soul modern music Robert Johnson. However, these two gentlemen...? They are a bit of a juicy contradiction conundrum to me; indie artists who are successful in the mainstream, who don't adhere to just one genre (as their Blakroc collab with hip-hop greats like Common , Mos Def and the RZA prove), and who genuinely seem to love what they make. And they're oddballs. Gotta love that.

Check them out.
I promise you'll be cooler for it ;)