Music Day - A Song In The Night

I'm surprised I haven't featured this one.

Silverwind was, vocally, the 'Christian' equivalent of ABBA, and I loved both equally. There's not a lot of call for soprano voices in CCM, and from the day I first heard this album I was enraptured by Betsy Hernandez's pure, clear voice (come to think of it, those are also the same vocal qualities Rick Florian has). My short-lived desire to be a singer was born then, listening to my dad's vinyl copy of the album I'm about to feature.

For me, this was a slow burner of a song. It was pretty, of course, and I could appreciate the lyrics even then, but I liked Forgiven better (ironically the one song on the album that didn't heavily feature Hernandez's fairy-like soprano voice). It was around 2016 when this song sprang into my mind out of nowhere and I spent the next eight hours choreographing the entire thing start-to-finish from scratch. I had never even thought about choreographing it (there were too many Daniel Amos songs ahead of it in the queue), but suddenly I saw the entire thing in my head, fully formed, and it was all I could do to write it all down before it was gone. It was one of maybe two dances I've made that I would suspect were divinely inspired. There were seventeen dancers, angels flooding the stage. I'm not normally one for angels, but that was what the piece demanded so that was what I wrote. This is probably one of the ones I would most like to see on stage before I die.

The song itself is written as a lullaby -- a rather more lush and fleshed-out lullaby (the song clocks in at nearly four a and half minutes long). It includes not only Silverwind's signature harmonies, but also a child choir. If you can tune out the oom-pah-pah-like bass line (I promise, it is literally the only kitschy part of the song), you will find a beautiful bed of piano work (I wish I knew who played piano on this so I can buy everything they ever played on), accentuated by some light synth touches.

There are several highlight moments here. The first is the second chorus. The first chorus features only the children singing the melody in unison on la la la, accompanied only by a gentle rhythm section. The first and second verses are lovely and touching but not overly arresting -- painting a picture of a frightened child singing a simple song to beat back the terrors of the night -- but after the second verse there's a short but hard stop and Betsy's voice, nearly a cappella, puts words to the melody that the children sang earlier.

Take me soon, O morning star

To the heavens where you are

Sailing on a silver wind

Take me where my dreams begin...

In recent years, I've begun to imagine singing this to any future children I might have. It's the only time I have ever really pictured having a child of my (our) own. But the angel theme that I suddenly associated with the song in 2016 is a hard one to break. It does make sense -- in 2016, I was still very much grieving the losses (read: deaths) that happened in 2015, including the death of my cousin at nine years old. And in the past year or two especially, I have developed a very intense longing for 'home' -- the heavens, beyond the stars, beyond the wall of sleep. It's much deeper than the suicidal urges I've fought off and on through the years. This is a pervasive longing -- not to die, necessarily, but to go to the place where things are Good. The words take me, morning star / To the heavens where you are (as it is sung later in the song) sometimes fill me with so much longing to go there that it brings me to tears. This song is a lullaby, but a very emotionally intense one, one with the aura of death.

The second major highlight moment is where is seems the song comes to an end. At this point, it's been a lovely but mellow lullaby. It slows to an ending with a repeated line and a cadence... then the piano surges into the space and a triumphant trumpet kicks off a repeat of the chorus...

The third highlight is after this repeat. The chorus is repeated again, but with the children singing a counterpoint line -- which is something you literally NEVER, EVER hear in CCM (yes, DA did it in Horrendous Disc, the song, a couple years earlier, but by then they were in the process of being relegated to the 'probably heresy' section in Christian music stores). It is absolutely otherworldly.

Title: A Song In The Night

Artist: Silverwind

Album: A Song In The Night

Year: 1982

iTunes here; YouTube here.

Shadows fade and then disappear

When voices rise up sweet and clear...

The Return Of Royalty

ABBA's back.

Yes, this is old news by now, but it happened the week my grandfather died and I wanted time to process it properly.

I was the biggest ABBA fangirl in the world in my early/mid-teens. That phase ended right around the time I started this blog, actually. I still listened to ABBA songs once in a while, but they were WAY behind artists like Daniel Amos, Crumbächer, and White Heart on my most-played lists.

Then the Instagram announcement came. And fifteen-year-old Kate The ABBA Nut has returned in all of her glory.

If you haven't heard this song yet, do so. I Have Faith In You has somehow become the song of the movement, but Don't Shut Me Down is many times more upbeat and danceable. This is more the ABBA that we knew. I Have Faith In You hearkens back to endlessly slow songs like I Have A Dream, and really, that wasn't who ABBA was. Don't Shut Me Down is what ABBA was -- big and bombastic and dance-inducing. Don't let the melancholy and frail-sounding opening lines fool you -- you just wait for that piano gliss and then tell me that's not ABBA.

This is what pop music needs to be. That rich, lush instrumentation (the warm strings, the plump bass, the glorious keyboard) has been sorely lacking in pop music since the early 2000s when people decided the acoustic guitar was the only instrument that existed anymore. Everyone's talking about the harmonies (and they do sound just as clear and glorious as they did in 1982), but I challenge you to listen to the music. You simply can't make music that soars like that with a solo voice and one (1) acoustic guitar.

Even in the height of my fangirling in my teen years, I always gravitated to the 1980s output. There were only two '80s albums, but both were pure, solid gold. Up till Super Trouper, their albums usually had at least one 'filler' track. But Super Trouper (1980) and The Visitors (1981) both demonstrated a marked growth in their songwriting (possibly due to their increasing familiarity with the English language as well as increased maturity in general as the band members settled into their 30s), as well as increased richness and depth in their instrumentation. I always thought they were just beginning to hit their artistic stride in The Visitors, but of course, true art does not go over well with the masses, so ABBA called it quits.

With all that being said, this song would have fit right in on the overall glittering, shimmering album Super Trouper, perhaps right after Lay All Your Love On Me. Literally nobody in 1980 would have batted an eye. Even vocally, nothing has changed. It's as if they never stopped. It literally feels like The Visitors came out a year ago, rather than 40 years ago. That's how little their skills deteriorated. These people transcend time and trends. Don't mess with them. Even the subject matter of the song hints at this... I'm now and then combined...

It's been a rough two years, friends. Put this on and go dance a bit.

Title: Don't Shut Me Down

Artist: ABBA

Album: Voyage

Year: 2021

Pre-order on their website or iTunes, YouTube here.

My Room

Cleaning out my room at my parents' house for the final time.

Sure, I've moved away before, but before I always had the option of coming back. My possessions continued to reside here in this cheery pink room, under increasingly thick grey layers of dust and the occasional spiderweb. I never really truly had to move out of this room. I left for years at a time, but it was still my room.

But now I've just gotten married, and my sister is planning to take over my room. This requires me to clean it out for perhaps the first time ever. I've certainly straightened it up once or twice, but never truly deep-cleaned, and I've especially not had to pack it all away into storage at the same time. It's funny how few of my finds truly surprised me (apparently I pretty much knew exactly where everything was, despite some things not seeing the light of day for over a decade), yet when I dusted them off, only then did they bring back memories.

I'm a terribly, terribly sentimental person. I will keep a Staples receipt for pens and paperclips for nostalgic reasons, even though I know I will probably never look at it again. Part of the reason I had never truly cleaned out my room was because I was suffering so much loss already and I knew I couldn't bear to throw anything away. But now I'm forced to, and that, coupled with knowing this room is no longer my safe place anymore, is a very emotional process.

This room was where I cowered in fear from my mother's outbursts and listened to ABBA CDs nonstop on my headphones. This room was where I listened to Oilers hockey games and paced the carpet in the dark as I listened, working out some new plot idea. This room is where I would write all day long and late into the night on my old Windows XP machine with a 20GB hard drive (pretty sure the processor on that thing was measured in megahertz), or simply stare at the screensaver and daydream. This room was where I would sit on the floor after dance class and choreograph to Petra and White Heart, planning all sorts of dance shows with M. This room was where I sketched out revenge stories centering around the youth group that hated me. I've fallen asleep on the grey-pink carpet, I've made endless crochet and cross-stitch projects, I played hours of Polly Pocket with my sister, I've written over half a million words of ideas and prose, I've tap danced, I've even practiced a few ballet steps here. I've done so many self-portrait photoshoots, written so many blog posts, lost myself in so many dreams, cried so many silent but tortured tears. I moved into this room somewhere around 2003/2004, and it's been a home base for me ever since.

I found cards with greetings in both M's and Brittney's handwriting. I found a bear that my late grandfather gave me when I got baptised. I found mementos from a 2004 trip to see my now-deceased great-uncle and his wife in B.C. I found bookmarks my sister had made me, story ideas I'd sketched out on the back of church bulletins, and tickets for shows I'd performed in as a child. I even found a folder with all my work and costume designs and very early choreography for a book/dance company idea I had nursed for some three or four years in my early teens before joining the real world and realising that that exact particular idea was simply not feasible (it's not completely dead, though, the dream of a dance team and even some sections of choreography from that period still live on in my present work).

These are things that you never know the value of when you first receive them. This is another part of why I can't throw anything out. How could I have known on my 20th birthday when I received that card from M that she would be dead barely five years later? If I had thrown that card out two weeks later like I'm told 'normal people' always do, I would now have nothing left of the fierce woman who so often inspired and encouraged me. No-one else will ever exist with that exact handwriting, that exact way of wording things. And even if someone could forge it, they could never forge her personality, her essence, her spirit, her -- the things that all who knew her fell in love with.

Brittney was one of the very few people who was capable of being encouraging in writing. Sometimes her birthday cards to me were the only source of encouragement I would get for that entire year. This words-of-affirmation person had to scrape together all the encouragement she could, and sometimes it was contained only in the left-handed script of this one dear friend.

How could I know that my grandfather would only give me two gifts in the entire twenty-three years he knew me? Yes, I will never play with that stuffed bear, but my grandfather was a hardened, bitter man who rarely showed approval, let alone affection. That bear showed me what his gruff voice and distant actions never managed to do. I would rather remember that than simply replay the fading memory of his critical voice over and over in my head.

Memories fade. And these people meant far too much to me for me to justify callously tossing aside the things that remind me of them and their huge, huge impacts on my life. And because I never know which bright young life will disappear next, I can't afford to lose any of those memories. I learned when M died that just because something is statistically improbable (losing TWO best friends at age 22 in three years?), DOES NOT mean it's impossible. Especially if it's something bad. You know, like losing SEVEN people to death in four years; all but one under the age of 27. What's to say there won't be an eighth? Statistically, there should have been no more deaths in my life after Brittney for a good fifteen years, save maybe my grandfather due to his age and health. Yet there were five more in 1,461 days. Improbable, you say -- but it happened. It happened in real life, in my life. You truly never know. You can 'be positive' and 'not think about it now' and believe in the health and wealth of your friends all you want, but you truly. never. know. Nobody escapes the death of the ones they love the most. Nobody. (Except the ones who die young.)

(Side note: I am literally not even joking, iTunes just started playing Memories Fade by Tears For Fears. I did not plan this, and I am not making this up. I just started playing TFF and I had completely forgotten that song even existed.)

This room has been my safe haven through a lot of things, when there was no-one to talk to and no-one to go to. The golden light, amplified by the pink walls, seemed to bring a modicum of hope even on the darkest days of suicidal depression. The lone incandescent bulb that hung from the 2x10s that made up the upper floor above me lit the way to many a late-night story idea -- the spaceships that allowed me to travel through time and space, away from the pain of whatever situation I was in.

To not have even the option of spending a day alone in this room again -- it steals the breath from my chest. This room was one of my few constants in a world that insisted on dying away around me. It was always there, even after Brittney died and M died. It was my sanctuary when the world was against me (and let's be honest, it still is in many ways). I feel untethered without it, but it is time...
Another goodbye. It never gets easier.

Thank you, big pink room with the tree-dappled southern sunlight and the desks lining the walls, for all the good times and for sheltering me through all the bad times. Thank you for all the memories. Thank you for the safety and protection and inspiration you provided. I'll miss you something awful.

Music Day - Angel Falls

Named a novel after this one. I had been plotting the story and this song came on the Cephas Hour at the same time. (And your college English prof told you authors agonise over the meaning of any word, phrase, or title associated with their material. It's lies, I promise. Trust me… I'm an author. But I digress...)

When I first heard this song, I actually thought it was from the eighties (it's from 2013). The production totally does not sound overly loud, flat and generally obnoxious like most of today's songs -- and that, in my opinion, is a very good thing. Plus, that bassline (not necessarily eighties, just generally awesome).

The performer in me appreciates the loose theme -- a story of a girl being the star, the princess, all her dreams have come true… and the harsh reality in her quest for love, her loss of innocence. Thematically, it's ABBA's Thank You For The Music mini-musical meets Crumbächer's Jamie.

But ultimately the song is about a fall from grace. I think we can all relate to that.

Title: Angel Falls
Artist: Veil Of Ashes
Album: Eternal Teenage Angst
Year: 2013
Listen to and buy the song on Bandcamp here.

I needed this song tonight. I make my theatrical debut one week from today, as Mary Lennox (the main character) in The Secret Garden. This is the first official theatre production I've even been in, never mind in a lead role. It's a part I never honestly expected that I would get. I didn't think I was lead role material, especially since I didn't really have any acting experience at all. It's still surreal, and it's almost over.

We've been rehearsing this thing for a month and a half. Every night I fall farther behind on my homework, but I barely even notice or care because every night I've been surrounded by the magic of the stage. It's hard to describe to someone who's never experienced it. It's a totally different world on stage. We can get so totally wrapped up in that world that we forget reality (which is why I haven't been freaking out over the four papers I have to write this month). I especially identify with the subject of the song -- you get the sense that this is a previously unknown girl catapulted to fame, into a lead role. Sound familiar...? And then she falls -- in love? from grace? -- harder than she could have imagined. It's a little terrifying listening to these lyrics tonight even as I consider what I'm going to do with this newfound love of performing after I graduate next month.

Music Day - Time

So this is a Swedish metal band which sang about Jesus. I ask you, does it get any better than this?

Swedish bands appeal to me (it's the former ABBA fangirl in me), and I love a good head-banging song every now and then (and by 'now and then' I mean 'like an hour every day'). This song in particular is overflowing with passion. Jerusalem was direct, lyrically, and that's always something I appreciate, both in music and in real life -- even if I don't agree with you, I would much rather you be honest with me.

Title: Time
Artist: Jerusalem
Album: In His Majesty's Service (Live In The USA)
Year: 1985
Label: Refuge Records
iTunes here; YouTube here.

I want to give you your freedom...

That line, right there. Chills, every time. One of my favourite screams in music, ever (Larry Norman's Messiah scream and Rick Florian's Babylon scream is right up there though).

Lift up your eyes
Your time has come
Lift up your hands
Accept what I've done
Accept what Jesus has done...

There's enough raw passion in the vocal to make these lines awe-inspiring rather than merely cliché. It's a song of pleading encouragement. I liken it to Undercover's Come Away With Me, only with more punch (especially in quantity -- the song runs well over six minutes).

Could it be that someone gave you the wrong impression of Me
For you are not condemned, you are loved
Loved by Me
I gave My life for you...

This song in particular also utilises enough synth to offset the crunching guitars (which can get monotonous after a while -- blasphemy, I know), but not enough to drown the song in the 1980s. Another thing I really like about this song from a musical standpoint is the varied rhythms and tempo. It's a bit of a progressive piece, but while it's well-executed, it doesn't take itself too seriously. It moves fast enough and the slow sections are short enough that the song doesn't lag.

Also, for a live recording, it's really clear and well-mixed. I actually did not know it was a concert recording until well after I bought the song. It's that well done.

Music Day - Only Jesus

This album (along with David Meece's 7) was the soundtrack to my life when I was eleven/twelve years old. I happened across it again while organising my iTunes library (and by that I mean procrastinating on two papers).

I always thought Betsy's voice was so sweet, and to hear it again is like a soothing balm to my frazzled soul (see above parenthetical regarding academic papers, plural). These songs communicate nothing if not 'everything is going to be okay.' Yeah, okay, so maybe they were a REALLY inoffensive blend of Maranatha! singers and Second Chapter of Acts in the mid-eighties to boot, but this stuff has a simplistic beauty to it. Betsy's lead vocals are saturated with childlike faith, and that's what makes this group so darn endearing. (Plus, you know, ethereal synthesizers.) If the members of ABBA had been Christians, this is what they would have sounded like.

Now that I actually know a thing or two about music and singing (specifically, harmonising), I'm a lot better able to understand how intricate this group really was. When I was eleven, I had never even heard of the concept of harmonization. I never really thought about why this group always sounded so rich and full -- I just assumed that since there were two ladies singing, it sounded like that. Turns out I was partly right, but I never would have figured out the whole 'harmony' thing. Betsy Hernandez may be the sweet voice in the front, but Patty Gramling really held this together, lent Betsy the strength.

I could pick any song from this album. This particular song has always seemed like the perfect seventh track on an album -- it's not radio-friendly enough to be on the first side, and it's not edgy enough to bring in the second side. But it's not the graceful perfect cadence (or hard-hitting rocker) to close out an album either. It's that unexpected sliver of a sunbeam on the second side, where you don't usually expect much, but then something graceful and soaring rises out of the vinyl. How fitting that the lyrics explore bird imagery.

Title: Only Jesus
Artist: Silverwind
Album: By His Spirit
Year: 1985
Label: Sparrow Records
iTunes here; YouTube here (yes, it says 1986. I own the vinyl, which says 1985. So there).


In other news: Prodigal (who longtime readers of this blog may know as the creators of the FANTASTIC song Future Now) is releasing not one, not two, but ALL THREE of their amazing albums on CD later this year. Rest assured that I will be spamming this blog with the website information once I have it. For now, be aware that you need this album in your life. Even if you never buy a White Heart album (though you should do that too), you should at least buy Prodigal's Electric Eye. It is a work of art. Full stop.

Music Day

(This is one of those 'awesomely eighties' songs. The usual warning -- if you don't like eighties music, go read a different blog post. Also, don't expect anything deep and soul-wrenching from today's song. Funny, yes. Genius, yes. Life-altering? Probably not.)

So remember a while back when I mentioned my Daniel Amos collection consisted of three tracks?

Yeah, well, it kind of grew since then. Seriously, Doppelgänger was like a drug. One hit and it dragged me down to the underworld. I now own like two dozen DA tracks and once I get paid later this month I'm buying another album (two if the budget allows it). (Yes, 'music' is a budget item here in my weird little world.)

(It's The Eighties, So Where's Our) Rocket Packs.

You just know a song is going to be good when it has a title like that.

Title pretty much says it all, actually. Sarcastic and eighties. I'm also pretty sure this title has the longest parenthetical aside ever in a song title. I'll see people refer to the song just as Rocket Packs (admittedly, it's faster to type), and there's always this moment where I have no clue what they're talking about.

Fair warning: this is heavy on the synth. Some would call it dated, and that it may be, but I happen to like it. (Awesomely eighties, people, awesomely eighties.) I also happen to quite like the synthesized vocals -- adds to the 'futuristic' charm of the song, as do the robotic-sounding synthesizer asides. (A little history lesson for all you hip, cool kids -- this was the precursor to autotune, only here the singer still had to be able to actually sing.)

In a weird way that I can't quite put my finger on, this song (indeed, most of the record) makes me think of ABBA -- what they might have sounded like had they continued into the eighties. I realise it might seem like a bit of a stretch (and the DA diehards will probably lynch me for that), but you listen to ABBA's The Visitors album; especially the title track and Two For The Price Of One... stylistically, this stuff isn't actually that far removed.

But that's enough rambling. Here's the song.

Title: (It's The Eighties, So Where's Our) Rocket Packs
Artist: Daniel Amos
Album: Vox Humana
Year: 1984
Label: Refuge Records
iTunes here; YouTube here.
Support the artist: Buy the CD on their website here (scroll down past the 'featured' section to the part labelled 'Daniel Amos').

Disregard the entire iTunes Store review. Bull crap, pure and simple. Can't the iTunes people ever say anything nice about the stuff they carry? Might help your sales if you didn't criticise everything you offer... just saying.

The only point from that review that's valid is no, this is definitely not Doppelgänger. While that's sad, because Doppelgänger is freaking brilliant, this is still a good record. Yes, it has synthesizers. No, that does not automatically make it horrible. Some of us like keyboards and synths and think that the whole idea of the obligatory guitar solo (except the ones on Doppelgänger and White Heart's Bye Bye Babylon) should just die already. If you don't like the synths, don't listen to the music. Go destroy your mind with dubstep or country or whatever it is you actually like (since it apparently isn't eighties music). Just shut your trap and let those of us who like synths enjoy them without having to justify ourselves all the time.

There. Rant made. Now you can go enjoy the song. And rest assured that you'll be seeing more from Vox Humana on Music Day in the future (I freaking love this album -- there were at least three other songs from there that nearly became today's feature). But next week, I'll give you a break from Dr. Edward Daniel Taylor... I promise.

Music Day

Since Canadian Thanksgiving is on Monday (usually I don't make such a big deal out of Thanksgiving, but this past year has changed my perspective a lot), I decided to feature a thankful-type song.
Naturally the first one in my head was a Petra song (look at the Music Day tab just under this blog's heading and you'll see what I mean), but there's also a very nice Silverwind song of gratitude as well... actually, two, now that I think about it. (There's more, but I struggle with indecisiveness enough without consciously looking for things to be indecisive about.)
(Now that I look for one of the two songs on YouTube I find more good thankful Silverwind songs...)
(And a Petra song. I CAN'T GET AWAY FROM THEM!)
(Yes. It's late. I get a little daft when it's late.)
(This is why I do most of my writing at night... then I'm too hyper to notice (or care) if it sucks.)
(Neither of the Silverwind songs I thought of are on YouTube. I should just put them on myself.)
(...If I wasn't so lazy... er, that is, if I didn't already have a thousand things to do. Like go to sleep and do this in the morning.)
(Well, later in the morning.)
(You know what I mean.)

Anyway, the song's on iTunes and that's the main thing. Now that they've switched to a minute and a half long preview, that gives you a pretty good idea of whether you'd like the song anyway (even if it takes entirely too long to preview albums now).

Title: Thank You Lord
Artist: Silverwind
Album: By His Spirit
Year: 1985
Label: Sparrow Records
iTunes here.

I have always loved Betsy's voice and in fact, it was thanks primarily to Betsy Hernandez (of Silverwind) and Agnetha Fåltskög of ABBA (similar sound, completely different outlook), that I taught myself to sing. My dear childhood friend could tell you stories... many were the times when she'd grab me by the shoulders and say 'Will you STOP TALKING about MUSIC?!?'

Obviously I didn't -- I just redirected it.

This Week's Gem From Kate's Music Library

This week I am very excited to be able to direct you to this portion of the iTunes Store. I have been waiting for two years now for this band to make it onto the Store, and at last it has! One album is still missing, but the first three (which, admittedly, are all better than the fourth) are all there. My father has them on vinyl, but unfortunately my attempt at converting them to MP3 files a few years ago failed miserably (primarily because the record player we were using was awfully persnickety and barely worked at all).
The band has a refreshing sound -- most definitely not the same recycled riffs every three minutes that you get on the radio. Some compare their sound with the likes of ABBA, and I have to agree. When you match something reminiscent of ABBA's sound with non-suggestive, even hope-filled lyrics, you have something special.
This song was my favourite back when I was first introduced to the band.

Title: 'Breaking Through'
Artist: Silverwind
Album: By His Spirit
Year: 1985

Buy it from iTunes here. (I highly recommend the entire album though -- it's their best one. Then again, I tend to recommend the entire album from which all of these songs are taken...)