Definition by Clapton
Thoughts on the drive to the gym.
OR
A case study in me.
Have you ever heard the song Layla by Eric Clapton. Today I listened to both the unplugged and regular lp version
Most people love that saccharine unplugged version from the early nineties. And don't get me wrong. I LOVE the unplugged version, but for real, it to totally desecrates the song and the way it was meant to be heard. That song is a man's primal wail for acknowledgment from a woman. Unrequited PASSION. That song is emotion. A howl. This man is in love with another man's wife (FYI George Harrison of Beatles fame) and he is just Raw. And I love that. That the wail of the guitar is just mimicing the soul at the time. I don't need the sweet version, with the piano and the box drum, where the emotion is cleaned up and looked at from a distance. Give me the real, raw, ugly part of the song any day, any time.
Which is just a total case study in my personality. I am totally inclined to like things real and messy. Save the sugar for your cereal.
I am on a strange kick with music right now, for the record. Norah Jones, Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton, The Stones... I have no idea what the hell is going on in my head, but apparently I am visiting the 70's and I took Norah with me to visit. Now I am off to go beat into my roommates head the importance of Layla and the significance of the stones.
I will break her of this worship music all the time fixation if it kills me. Hope jesus doesn't mind.
P.S. Mom, I am seriously developing an affectation for Charlie Watts of the Stones... granted he is in his late 60's. Do not be alarmed, I am not gonna go all groupie on you... but seriously that man is the best Stone.... damn it.
OR
A case study in me.
Have you ever heard the song Layla by Eric Clapton. Today I listened to both the unplugged and regular lp version
Most people love that saccharine unplugged version from the early nineties. And don't get me wrong. I LOVE the unplugged version, but for real, it to totally desecrates the song and the way it was meant to be heard. That song is a man's primal wail for acknowledgment from a woman. Unrequited PASSION. That song is emotion. A howl. This man is in love with another man's wife (FYI George Harrison of Beatles fame) and he is just Raw. And I love that. That the wail of the guitar is just mimicing the soul at the time. I don't need the sweet version, with the piano and the box drum, where the emotion is cleaned up and looked at from a distance. Give me the real, raw, ugly part of the song any day, any time.
Which is just a total case study in my personality. I am totally inclined to like things real and messy. Save the sugar for your cereal.
I am on a strange kick with music right now, for the record. Norah Jones, Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton, The Stones... I have no idea what the hell is going on in my head, but apparently I am visiting the 70's and I took Norah with me to visit. Now I am off to go beat into my roommates head the importance of Layla and the significance of the stones.
I will break her of this worship music all the time fixation if it kills me. Hope jesus doesn't mind.
P.S. Mom, I am seriously developing an affectation for Charlie Watts of the Stones... granted he is in his late 60's. Do not be alarmed, I am not gonna go all groupie on you... but seriously that man is the best Stone.... damn it.
posted by Shanelle at 7:40 PM
1 Comments:
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