Sunday, February 17, 2013

Sing To Me, Raven....

Getting reacquainted with New England is taking just a little time. These bothersome blizzards and weekend snow storms aren't helping me acclimate any easier either, I'll tell you that much. There are some small annoyances that I wish would be remedied - for instance: The highways and roads in and around the Boston area are dreadful. OK, most of my gripes seem to be about the roads and/or driving around here..other than that, with the purchase of one very warm pair of fleece Garfield pajama pants, it seems I am prepared to be a New Englander once more.

Being in MA has its perks, too. Quite a few of them. At the top of the list, however, would be the music scene. To be more particular, Steven Wilson. Last year his "Grace For Drowning" tour came to Orlando. That was about 3 hours away from me. Worse than that, it was in the middle of the week. I couldn't go. I still regret it. Once again, his 2013 tour will come nowhere near South Florida. Lucky for me, I am now living near Boston, and I am counting down the days to his show. I got some AMAZING seats and feel like I did in my formative years, when I was filled with so much excitement and so anxious to see a show it seemed the day would never come!

Now, to the good stuff. Steven Wilson's new album - "The Raven That Refused To Sing (and other stories)." This, Steven Wilson's third solo work of art, is inspired by ghost stories of yore. Stories inspired by the likes of Edgar Allan Poe and early 20th century English writers like M.R. James, Algernon Blackwood, and Arthur Machen. All of whom (save Poe) Steven has said he had been reading around the time of the album. These are not the cheesy gore or shock value type stories that riddle today's movie theaters and book stores...but the brooding, uneasy, macabre, slow sense of dread and doom and damnation type of stories that seem to only belong to that bygone era. Stories more about regret and loss, using ghosts both as a metaphor and as an actual entity. The album doesn't actually come out until February 25th. But there are a couple tracks that have so graciously  been released early for our listening pleasure: "Luminol," which may just be one of my favorite songs EVER. And, the song the album was named after: "The Raven That Refused To Sing." That song. THAT. SONG. That song, is so powerful and moving and emotional and beautiful I almost can't take it. It was released with a video to go along with it that is just as powerful and beautiful and touching...it is just beyond words. The story seems to be about an old man, nearing death, and longing for his sister whom he loved so dearly but lost at a young age. The old man encounters a raven that he feels could be a sign from his sister...or perhaps it actually is his sister. He just wants so badly for there to be some kind of connection to her..to beyond..to know he isn't alone, won't be alone, - that he will be with her again. That she watches over him. That he won't miss her anymore. If the raven will only sing for him - he will know it is her. He will know it is a sign. He will know that she waits for him on the other side. He can have hope. But, the raven refuses to sing.



This song really resonates with me. Though the characters are different, the feeling is the same. My mother died when I was seven. Having death touch your life at such a tender age definitely changes you, it estranges you from your peers. You are forced to deal with the fact that things end. That there is a finality to all this. You can't help but ponder your own mortality, while other children are pondering Mickey Mouse.

 Though I have an unusually large amount of memories of my mother and I, naturally there are a lot of things I wonder about, lament about, question, "what if?"...and many, many times, I still find myself missing her terribly. Though I'm not the least bit religious, I do look for signs from her, I guess I do want that reassurance, that feeling that she has been with me and will be with me until I can see her again. I think the search for these signs is only human. A human need to find solace. To find comfort in knowing our loved ones aren't ever really gone. That we really don't end. That we are never alone. I guess I'm always waiting for my own raven to sing.

"Sing to me raven, I miss her so much."

That's where I am so far. Touched to the core from the title track of Steven Wilson's new album. I would never expect anything less than amazingness from him, and he has yet to let me down. Such a brilliant man. And so, I am extra happy to be back in New England. Not only am I close to my family and best friends again...I am guaranteed to see Steven Wilson on any given U.S. tour! With that, I am off to work on my own music. Who knows, maybe someday my music will touch others the same way SW's music has touched me. I think that is what every real artist wants their work to do...

P.S. I just watched the video again for, oh....the billionth time. And I was just put through that powerful emotional journey again. That pairing of that amazing video and song...the story telling is just overwhelmingly gorgeous. It also brought back a memory. Watching the old man fearing death..the hands, the unknown monster coming to take him, and then seeing what/who he thinks is his sister protecting him...brought me back to a particularly dark memory of my Grandfather, in his late 80's. He had never quite gotten over my mother's death. On this particular afternoon as we were sitting in his living room talking about her he just broke down. He seemed to become delirious for a moment - and he was scared, bewildered. Then he exclaimed that he saw my mother before him - protecting him. He kept calling her name. When he finally came out of it he just cried gently. It was a side of him I had never seen, and it was unnerving. A moment I apparently chose to hide in the recesses of my mind until now. That's the power of song and film....