I've been thinking about this prompt for two days but I just can't get past that lyric. Every time I try Freddy Mercury's voice fills my head and Christopher Lambert's sad eyes smile before me. Every. Single. Time. I finally decided that I do not in fact need the universe to hit me over the head with an actual sledgehammer before getting the message, so I am caving to the inevitable and writing about the magic that is music.
At its best, music can transform your very soul. It can raise you up, or cast you down. It can set your feet to tapping and your eyes to dancing. Music can unite, and it can divide. It can be as fleeting as a one-hit wonder, or it can endure for centuries. Did you know that the Animals' song The House of The Rising Sun has roots over 400 years old? It began its life in the 1600's as a song called The Rising Sun, and has grown and changed over the years, until the ubiquitiousness of modern technology caused the Animals' version to implant in all of our brains. As a long-time folkie with a particular affinity for the folk process and the more academic musicology side of the genre (I used to have a recording of 17 different versions of The Unfortunate Rake, probably more familiar to many of you as either the St. James Infirmary Blues or The Streets of Laredo), the way these songs reach out to us through the ages, their staying power, is something that defies rational thought and instead touches something indescribable deep inside of us.
Now you tell me.
Isn't that a kind of magic?