Making up for lost time

My musical preferences have come in phases. My college friends, specifically my roommates (and now, Sharon) can attest to this, since they had to hear my music- I swung wildly from the CCM scene (the good, the bad, and the ugly of it... that's another post) to the pop to contemporary gospel to country (yes, that... don't judge me. Actually, do judge me. I deserve it) to today... progress.

Really, most of it mirrors the process of growing up: tastes mature as you do (with some semblance of proportion). None of this means that the stuff you/I used to enjoy is necessarily bad- we've just moved on. And really, that isn't the point of this post.

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I'm not always sure what hits my emotional button, but I do know that, more often than not, music will be involved. It's my worship language. It's the avenue that I can most comfortably yet continuously discover human expression and experience- but only after a few listens. (I'm terrible at figuring out lyrics. Takes me at least a dozen listens.)

Perhaps it's just that Sharon is in New York while I'm trying simultaneously to stave off my attention-starved cats and to crank out this big graduate school report that's due in a week (I know you care). But this song finally landed for me today, hard. No interpretations or explications attached. I hope you can listen and experience it as powerfully as I was able, finally, to hear it:
(Also, it's Example #54742 of My Musical Tastes Always Being At Least Five Years Behind and the point of blurb above. And yes, I'm sure it's spectacularly cliche to blog Arcade Fire this way. But here I am.)

Wake Up (Arcade Fire - Funeral - 2004)

Somethin’ filled up
my heart with nothin’,
someone told me not to cry.

But now that I’m older,
my heart’s colder,
and I can see that it’s a lie.

Children wake up,
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.

If the children don’t grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We’re just a million little god’s causin rain storms
Turnin’ every good thing to rust.

I guess we’ll just have to adjust.

With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am goin’ to be
when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.

With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am goin’
With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am go-goin’

You better look out below!