The Little Things: Music

In wake of recent events; the prolonged ape show of under qualified and scandalous candidates yelling at one another that was the 2016 U.S. presidential election, it is important to disconnect from the political world and enjoy the small things in life, namely music. We all have our selection of bands, artists, and songs that we listen to, that gets us to a certain high, that special place that reminds of better days and nicer places. I like to call these ‘nostalgia tunes’, songs to be listened to only for the purpose of remembering sometime in the past.

Perhaps no other band has earned its way in the ‘hall of nostalgia’ more so than the American rock band The Doors. In the late 60s and early 70s, The Doors changed the psychedelic music scene forever. Dressed in dark clothing, spewing with controversial lyrics the immortal singer and poet Jim Morrison led his band of rebels into new musical heights, changing the way audiences view rock stars for years to come. With their vast array of songs and albums, as well as a couple of hidden tracks and unpublished pieces, The Doors made headlines with titles like “Light my Fire”, “The End”, and “Riders on the Storm”. For the layman, the passive fan, these songs are the extent at which they will listen to The Doors. However, upon closer reflection and deeper analysis into the world of The Doors, it becomes clear that this band has much more to offer.

In every Doors album you can find that one song that allows you to indulge into the deepest pleasures of life, a song that allows for the imagination to take control of the senses, placing the listener in a segment from his or her past, a state of euphoric nostalgia. For me, that song is “The Crystal Ship” from their self-named debut album, “The Doors”. The piece starts with Morrison’s silky baritone crooning voice with the words ‘Before you slip into unconsciousness — I’de like to have another kiss’. This almost leading lyrical complex accompanied by a slow, even scary, melodic composition, forces me to close my heavy eyes and fall into this unconscious realm Morrison describes.

As I surrender myself to the song, indifferent to the insecurities that haunt me, I am reminded of my childhood. Scenes of laughter and joy fill my mind. I see my brother and myself dancing like maniacs around a dead raven near a pond in Colorado, yelling and prancing all the while. I see my mother cooking a delicious meal, one that my brother and I will devour with muddy faces only to leap back to the cold frost, that had taken over our backyard the night before, once we were done. As the keyboard persists through its heavy solo, Morrison’s words creep against my spine once more. “Oh tell me where your freedom lies — The streets are fields that never die.” Yes Jim! I will show you where my freedom lies. It lies in the rocky mountains where my father and I ran from a bear eating apples from a tree, it lies under the wet palm trees of Miami under which I hid from the sun, it lies in this song, it lies in your words Jim, take me to the crystal ship, away from this world.

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