Robert Gale Ongley

Tag: Music

  • THE TRANSFORMATIONAL QUALITY OF MUSIC

    I was sitting with my fellow singers in our church choir, listening to our director rehearse his TEDx talk he would be delivering soon at the University of Arizona. He is a professor of music there. He and another person do a podcast called Lifetimes of Listening. He’s a musician. Music is a huge part of his life. The subject of his talk is how music makes you a better person.

    Hearing him discuss his premise was interesting, but when he reached the part about music having a transformative effect on people, my ears perked up. I hadn’t really looked at music from that perspective. It struck me as an exciting possibility. I couldn’t help but examine my own experience for clues as to the truth of this view.

    A Personal Search

    I recall being in the family kitchen when I was about five, and the radio was blaring out Yellow Rose of Texas. It was a huge hit in 1955. The song didn’t make much of an impression on me, but it may be the first song that lodged in my memory banks permanently. There were other songs of that time getting airplay on our local radio station in farming country of Pennsylvania or on TV’s Hit Parade. Nothing grabbed me, though.

    The first one which did came in 1958. I would have been in third grade, I think. It was Donna, sung by Ritchie Valens. It so happened I had a crush on a girl named Donna and the song hit the charts at the same time. I was injected with an early dose of puppy love and teen angst well ahead of puberty.

    The next song to really touch me was Old Shep by Elvis Presley. It was about a boy and his faithful dog that eventually grew old and died. I seem to remember crying when I heard that tune.

    In the early ’60s, the Four Seasons came out with Sherry. The Frankie Valli falsetto and the group’s harmonies with the strong back beat captured my imagination and any girl I met named Sherry after that was in a special, idyllic category.

    These three songs stand out in my memory. They resonated with me deeply, or so it seemed in my early youth. Were they transformative for me? I have to believe they just struck a chord with me that was already waiting to be plucked. It wasn’t until the Beatles hit the scene with I Want to Hold Your Hand that any music transformed me in some way.

    That song and many of their later hits sounded strange to me. They didn’t appeal to some nostalgic notion or even generate excitement on a form with which I was already familiar to capture my interest. Well, they did use rock n’ roll basics and themes I knew and enjoyed. However, they made it sound different, disagreeable really. I think it was a combination of more sophisticated chords and unique melodies that did it for me. Whatever it was, it caught my offended ear. With each listening, their songs took me along an unfamiliar path into a clearing where the sun filtered down with a fresh new light and sound took on a Bohemian effect I could come to understand only by opening myself.

    I stood at a crossroad, where I could reject what I was hearing or embrace it. To reject it meant maintaining the status quo of a world where Elvis and Budweiser were kings and my hair froze in a crewcut. To embrace it would lead me to freedom of expression and an influx of new ideas with new ways of seeing the world. I took the latter fork and was transformed.

    Next

    So, that was me. One example. To thoroughly explore this theory, we need to see what others have experienced. We need to consult the analyses of those who are more expert than me. Thus, we’ll carry this on in my next installment, soon to come.

  • SONG LYRICS CAN ENRICH YOUR LIFE

    I have observed that a lot of people are attracted to certain popular songs by either the music or the lyrics. Some clearly make their judgments based on how much the music pleases them while others look to the lyrics to decide if they like the song. I see no reason to reject a song because one or the other doesn’t measure up to my standards right out of the gate, but if pressed to state a preference, I might call myself a lyric guy. It probably has to do with being a writer.

    A Taste of Lyrical History

    The earliest written form of a complete song was Greek, found on a headstone from the first century, CE, in Turkey. Known as Seikilos Epitaph, it went like this: “While you live, shine / Have no grief at all / Life exists only for a short while / And time demands its toll.” Excellent sentiment that speaks to the living.

    Earlier songs go back as far as approximately 1400 BC. These were hymns. The lyrics paid homage to God, certainly meant to be inspirational. India produced its own devotional music in the first millennium CE that was certainly meant to focus our minds on our higher selves.

    It is believed the Iliad, an epic written by Homer, was written in the 8th century BC. A prominent character was Achilles, a human hero whose mother was a goddess. His father was mortal, however, relegating Achilles to the status of mortal as well. In the following lyric of a song sung by the goddess mother, we hear her reflect sadly the likely untimely death of her son.

    “…how sore my heart is! Now my life is pain for my great son’s dark destiny! I bore a child flawless and strong beyond all men. He flourished like a green shoot, and I brought him to manhood like a blossoming orchard tree, only to send him in the ships to Ilion to war with Trojans. Now I shall never see him entering Peleus’ hall, his home, again.”

    There were many songs of heroes in medieval times. I was most charmed by these while reading The Lord of the Rings. My takeaway from the Iliad is that the hero is an extension of worship, just below the status of a god. Again, they are a source of inspiration and lyrics are the vehicle bringing that inspiration to us.

    At the end of the 16th century, opera came into existence in Florence. At Britannica.com, I found this excellent quote about the origins of opera. “Indeed, Florence became the birthplace of opera at the end of the century, as the result of the confluence of three cultural forces: an established theatrical tradition, a strong sense of civic humanism, and a distinctly Florentine view of music and music’s relation to the cosmos.”

    Opera can be very dramatic. Here is an apropos excerpt from Claudio Monteverdi’s 1608 opera, “Lamento d’Arianna.

    “Let me die!
    and what do you think can comfort me
    in such harsh fate,
    in such great suffering?
    Let me die!

    Oh Theseus, my Theseus
    I still want
    to call you mine,
    cruel one, even though
    you flee from my eyes.

    Turn back, my Theseus,
    turn back Theseus, oh God!
    Turn back to gaze on her
    who abandoned
    her country and kingdom just for you,
    and who will leave her bare bones
    on these sands as food
    for fierce and merciless animals.”

    In the Baroque era, operas were sometimes comedies with a backdrop of those dramatic, even tragic circumstances. In the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, Gilbert and Sullivan’s English operettas became popular even in the United States. Gilbert’s lyrics are some of the most cleverly written I have ever heard. The brilliant wit keeps these fresh to this day. Witness this lyric from the song I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General.

    “I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
    I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral,
    I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical
    From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical; a
    I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,
    I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical,
    About binomial theorem I’m teeming with a lot o’ news, (bothered for a rhyme)
    With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.
    I’m very good at integral and differential calculus;
    I know the scientific names of beings animalculous:
    In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
    I am the very model of a modern Major-General.”

    Where Lyrics Go I Will Follow

    Musicals have carried on the tradition of creative, ingenious use of language in song. Stephen Sondheim, Andrew Lloyd Webber and George Gershwin are a few notable examples among many stellar wordsmiths in the field.

    Popular music isn’t quite so prolific in phenomenal lyric writing, but there’s so much of it that has been memorable. That’s where most of my knowledge is based. I offer several short excerpts off the top of my head that may have enriched your life.

    “She’s leaving home after living alone for so many years.” – Lennon and McCartney

    “We drank a toast to innocence. We drank a toast to now. We tried to reach beyond the emptiness. But neither one knew how.” – Dan Fogelberg

    “And it seems to me you lived your life
    Like a candle in the wind
    Never knowing who to cling to
    When the rain set in
    And I would have liked to have known you
    But I was just a kid
    Your candle burned out long before
    Your legend ever did
    Your candle burned out long before
    Your legend ever did.” – Elton John

    “Cathy, I’m lost, I said though I knew she was sleeping
    And I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why
    Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
    They’ve all come to look for America
    All come to look for America
    All come to look for America.” – Simon and Garfunkel

    “Love is My Religion.” – Ziggy Marley

    The Last Word

    I hope you’re encouraged to listen more closely to the lyrics of the songs you love and now listen to new songs you may come to love.

  • THE COMFORTING EMBRACE OF YOUR MUSIC

    Our lives are in some ways like a long series of novels or television shows that revolve around a few enduring characters and a greater number of interchanging ones as we move from one stage of life to another.

    We glide or trudge or plow along through the various phases with music playing in the background. Whether we’re “struggling for the legal tender” as Jackson Browne sang or “singin’ and dancin’ in the rain” a la Gene Kelly or we’re “on the road again” with Willie Nelson, there’s often music there energizing us, uplifting us or giving us comfort when we really need it.

    Life is a Series

    One of my earlier romances, when I was 22, wasn’t earthshaking on the world stage, but it was in my world. I’m referencing it rather than the one that become The One because of its various elements that had a “recipe” (Jimmy Webb/MacArthur Park) for drama perhaps unlike any other I’ve known.

    At the time, I was a lumber handler at a sawmill while I moonlighted as a long-haired, hard-partying wannabe writer and musician. I was a young dreamer with a low responsibility level whose ambition was dulled by drugs and alcohol. I wanted a relationship badly, though, when I was introduced to Carey (as I will call her).

    In my oft-altered states, I was euphorically listening to the likes of Led Zeppelin, Cat Stevens, Moody Blues and, of course, The Beatles. The music and the messages fueled my vision of elevated states of spirituality, of expanded awareness to which I attached central importance.

    Carey was an attractive 24 year-old widow with two preschool children. Her husband had died in a horrendous car accident that almost took Carey’s life as well. She was the daughter of a wealthy real estate broker who had a thin veneer of jovial camaraderie that possibly hid mean-spirited humor. While Carey was intelligent and charming in a mildly cynical sort of way, she was probably influenced by her ambitious father for whom she worked as a realtor with high energy and dedication. Her hard work had earned her a lovely house in a woodsy setting outside town.

    There was an evening when one of my best friends had his first date with the love of his life. They came over to Carey’s house after a movie or something. He would always have me play my guitar and sing some of my songs when we partied. These became part of the soundtrack of our relationship, as I usually had my guitar with me. Not that she loved my music, but I think she thought it was okay.

    One night when we went out in her sharp new Chevy Malibu, we were wearing the aura of young love, talking a lot, sharing likes and dislikes. She had been hearing plenty of my favorite music, so naturally she pulled out a tape that was in her car. “Do you like Barbra Streisand?” She held up the Stoney End album.

    I was lukewarm on Barbra, but I probably said something like, “Not what I’ve been listening to, but let’s hear it.” We did and I found it surprisingly palatable. I think she played it for me a few more times when we were in her car because I became quite familiar with it. It remains as a pleasant memory of my time with her.

    After a couple months or so, she started talking marriage. I wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea, but I very much wanted to be with her and we put it in our future. There were problems, though. Her children were pretty rowdy and had no respect for me. Carey was mature, strong-willed and relatively materialistic. I was her laid back hippie boyfriend, too immature to build an empire with her. One symbol of our basic difference was that I drove an old, big boat of a Chrysler. She wanted me to buy a Datsun, a Japanese car of all things. Funny aside, though, by the end of the decade I bought a new Datsun.

    More importantly, Carey was on an emotional roller-coaster. She was going through very tough times, still recovering from the loss of her husband. She was a young, newly single mother raising and supporting two high-energy children. Hard for my even-keeled personality to grasp. She would sink into a dark place off and on. I probably wasn’t much help with my music and hippie views.

    We had a four-month run, rocky for much of the time. After one difficult day, Carey said, “I think we should separate for a while. I need to think about what we should do.”

    I went along with this and told her, “Fine. Let me know what you decide.”

    I thought I could be cool, but the next week or so was unbearable. Each day was worse than the last as I awaited a call.

    I composed a couple songs during my exile. One called You’re Not Here bemoaned how we lost our way. The other, Separation Blues, brought out the ache I felt in my heart. Here’s one verse and a chorus.

    The minutes are becomin’ hours. It’s gettin’ harder all the time. I’ve gotta see you soon, I’ll tell ya, or I’ll lose my mind. O why don’t you come to me and one we’ll be and we’ll be free. O why don’t you let me know, if only because I love you so.

    I finally caved and called her. She wasn’t ready and my pressure pushed her into saying we should just end it.

    My heart was broken. I cried hard for a while, then took a drive out on a small country road. I was normally a slow driver, but this particular day I drove in a rage at 80 or 90 MPH while rock music blared on the radio.

    One of the best things to come from our relationship was an introduction through Carey to a couple that became treasured friends of mine for many years. I was best man at their wedding. The man of the pair was an excellent guitarist and he helped me record the first collection of my best original songs. Music was a large part of our friendship. They eventually split, but the woman remains a dear friend to this day and is one of my favorite people.

    Music is Magic

    Whatever we’re going through, good times or bad, music is always there for us to affirm our joy and ease our pain or provide whatever it is we need at the time. I’ll leave you with the words of Guy Gabriel, singer/songwriter and leader of Kindred Spirits, a group I’m proud to play with on a regular basis. These are some of the words of his song, Music is Magic.

    It can heal you It can soothe you It can rock you It can move you And change the way you feel With a single note It can teach you It can guide you It can reach you It can remind you And let you know things you’ve never, ever known

    Change your life in the blink of an eye Music is magic Take you higher and higher Make you feel so inspired

    It can shake you It can release you It can wake you It can free you And get you out of yourself For a magical time It can hold you It can change you It can mold you It can rearrange you And suspend all time and space for a little while

    Music is magic Change your life in a wave of the hand Saves us from what’s tragic It’s there at your command Bring you to the promised land

    Your Music

    From hip hop to opera, you should embrace the music that sings to you. It will then embrace you.

  • TEN MEMORABLE SONGS ABOUT MEMORABLE HUMANS

    There have been some outstanding songs based on the lives of people in history as well as some who currently are among us. I’ve found there are more being written than I even care to hear about. Here we’re going to look at and listen in our heads to ten well-known tunes about people that we should remember.

    Candle in the Wind by Elton John & Bernie Taupin

    This tribute to Marilyn Monroe was a heartfelt composition which lamented the loss of a sweet and lovely person who lifted the spirits of so many people in the world. A sample of the beautiful lyric:

    And it seems to me you lived your life
    Like a candle in the wind
    Never knowing who to cling to
    When the rain set in
    And I would have liked to have known you 
    But I was just a kid
    Your candle burned out long before
    Your legend ever did

    Vincent by Don McLean

    This song is a masterpiece, blending lyrical poetry with melody as well as it could ever be done. McLean speaks intimately to Van Gogh with deep understanding.

    Now I understand
    What you tried to say to me
    And how you suffered for your sanity
    And how you tried to set them free
    They would not listen, they did not know how
    Perhaps they’ll listen now

    Abraham, Martin and John by Richard Holler

    Sometimes songs about people group together a few or more of the illustrious who light the way for the rest of us. Honored here are three assassinated leaders beloved by many for their contributions to humanity.

    Didn’t you love the things they stood for?
    Didn’t they try to find some good for you and me?
    And we’ll be free,
    Someday soon it’s gonna be one day.
    Has anybody here seen my old friend Bobby,
    Can you tell me where he’s gone?
    I thought I saw him walkin’ up over the hill
    With Abraham, Martin and John.

    Greensleeves by Henry VIII (maybe)

    The woeful monarch allegedly penned one of the most beautiful tunes of all time in Greensleeves. He is said to have been commenting on the state of his dissolving marriage to Anne Boleyn. That did not turn out well for her.

    Greensleeves was my delight,
    Greensleeves my heart of gold
    Greensleeves was my heart of joy
    And who but my lady Greensleeves.

    Victoria by Ray Davies

    The Kinks were excellent with satirical lyrics. This was about Queen Victoria. It opens with an acidic verse, though later ones were almost adoring.

    Long ago life was clean
    Sex was bad and obscene
    And the rich were so mean
    Stately homes for the Lords
    Croquet lawns, village greens
    Victoria was my queen
    Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, ‘toria

    The Ballad of Ira Hayes by Peter La Farge

    It honors a marine who was born on the Gila River Indian Reservation in Arizona as a member of the Pima tribe. He was one of the American war heroes photographed planting the United States flag at Iwo Jima. His story is inspirational, but tragic.

    Ira Hayes returned a hero
    Celebrated through the land
    He was wined and speeched and honored
    Everybody shook his hand
    But he was just a Pima Indian
    No water, no home, no chance
    At home nobody cared what Ira’d done
    And when did the Indians dance

    Talkin’ Baseball by Terry Cashman

    This iconic tune celebrates a slew of baseball heroes, especially Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle and Duke Snider. When baseball was king, these guys were household names.

    We’re talkin’ baseball!
    Kluszewski, Campanella.
    Talkin’ baseball!
    The Man and Bobby Feller.
    The Scooter, the Barber, and the Newc,
    They knew ’em all from Boston to Dubuque.
    Especially Willie, Mickey, and the Duke.

    Bette Davis Eyes by Jackie DeShannon and Donna Weiss

    Those unforgettable eyes immortalized in a Number One hit by Kim Carnes. Davis had acting skills that championed independent women. She was not a one hit wonder by any means, but those eyes…

    And she’ll tease you, she’ll unease you
    All the better just to please you
    She’s precocious, and she knows just
    What it takes to make a pro blush
    She got Greta Garbo’s standoff sighs, she’s got Bette Davis eyes

    Hurricane by Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy

    Heavyweight boxing great Rubin “Hurricane” Carter was unfairly convicted of murder back in 1966 and spent 19 years in prison. This powerful composition helped bring attention and funding to the legal defense of Carter. In 1985, the Supreme Court exonerated the man for good.

    Rubin Carter was falsely tried
    The crime was murder “one,” guess who testified?
    Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
    And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride
    How can the life of such a man
    Be in the palm of some fool’s hand?
    To see him obviously framed
    Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
    Where justice is a game

    Don’t Cry For Me Argentina by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice

    From the 1978 musical Evita came this song about Eva Peron, the Argentine political leader. While her husband was President, she helped establish many charitable institutions while also supporting workers’ unions. In the musical, she grandly sings her message to a crowd from a balcony of the Casa Rosada.

    Don’t cry for me, Argentina
    The truth is, I never left you
    All through my wild days, my mad existence
    I kept my promise 
    Don’t keep your distance

    And as for fortune, and as for fame
    I never invited them in
    Though it seemed to the world they were all I desired
    They are illusions, they’re not the solutions they promised to be
    The answer was here all the time
    I love you, and hope you love me
    Don’t cry for me, Argentina

    Take Five

    Making music in honor of those we know or remember can be one of the most loving and kind forms of art. Even when we’re poking a little fun, it’s still a tribute for someone who could probably afford to be brought back down to reality just a bit. If you know of some other songs about memorable people, feel free to comment and share a title or two.