I’ve always found the word “lyrical” interesting. It refers to both literature and music, according to the OED, it means “expressing the writer’s emotions in an imaginative and beautiful way.”
Isn’t it funny, then, how so many songs can be completely and utterly devoted of any sort of lyricism?
Growing up, I was never a huge consumer of music. I listened to it, of course. It just never really moved me the way it seemed to move other people. I’d often hear people proclaim that they had to have music, that they would just die without it and I didn’t get it. I didn’t feel that way at all. I thought people were exaggerating when they went on about how a song or an artist touched them or meant so much to them.
Music was fine. It was just something that was there. I listened to it and, for the most part, forgot about it when I wasn’t listening. This relative indifference to music continued for an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time. Until after I’d graduated college.
A month after I’d graduated college, I began working a mind numbing job at an insurance company. About two or so years after this, I ended up working in a department that handled translations of medical records and whatever other flotsam and jetsam came across our desks. Since I spent all day staring at computer screens and no longer had to talk to our policyholders, I was somewhat bored. I asked a friend what she did to make it through the day.
She listened to Pandora. Continue reading