This is Not My Clever Title

Music is a big part of my life--listening to it, playing it, composing it.  It's one of my passions.  Writing is another.  So I've decided to devote a portion of this blog to combining the two.  So from here on out, amidst whatever else I decide to throw up here, you can expect to see two types of posts:

Sound Stories:  Like the proceeding, these shall be various tales of my life, somehow tied to music.  Might be stories about concerts, tales of nostalgia, serious, funny, enthralling, pointless.  Who knows.

Music & Meaning:  For these posts, I'll be choosing a particular song that holds some meaning for me, and waxing philosophical about said meaning. 

So.  Now that we've got that covered...  On to the actual post.  

                                                                                                                  

I have a friend who sends me music.  Lots of music.  She has single-handedly expanded my music collection exponentially.  And for that I thank her.  But I digress...

A while back, she sent me a song by Sarah McLachlan called "Gloomy Sunday."  It was a B-side that I'd never heard before, which was enough to excite me all by itself.  But then I listened to it.  It was true to it's name.  Gloomy.  Hell, it was downright depressing.  So, of course, I loved it. 

And as is part of the process for any song I add to my collection, I went a-Googling for the lyrics.  Amidst the results were lyrics for "Gloomy Sunday" by Billie Holiday.  So I thought, "Oh, it's a cover of a Billie Holiday song.  Cool." 

And that was that.  So I went on, happily listening for weeks, always thinking that I really ought to hunt down the original one of these days...

Then one evening, I was chatting with another friend, who had been killing time poking around Youtube.  She told me of a video she'd come across regarding "The Hungarian Suicide Song."  Something of an urban legend about a song reputed to have been linked to numerous suicides--so many, in fact, that the story became "if you listen to this song, you'll kill yourself." 

It was an intriguing enough story, but what really caught my attention was the title of the song:  "Gloomy Sunday." 

Could it be?  Had I been listening to The Hungarian Suicide Song all this time, blissfully unaware of it's true, deadly nature? 

I immediately ran off to watch the video, and sure enough, it was the very same song.  The melody was slightly different and it was in Hungarian, but it was definitely the same song. 

By the time I'd finished watching the video, there was a handy wikipedia link already waiting for me.  And included in the article, a list of all of the artists to have covered the song since it's initial release in 1933.  A very long list.  A list which, in my hands, was more than just an interesting bit of trivia.

I already loved the song.  And I love covers.  And I love collecting things. 

So I decided, then and there, that I was going to make an effort to get my hands on as many versions of the song as I possibly could. 

I'm making progress.  I've got nine.  Out of 62. 

And for the record, even listening to all ten of them consecutively did not make me want to kill myself.  So I'm pretty sure it's safe.  That being said, here, for your listening pleasure, are a few of the versions I currently possess.

 

Not included here (because they are .wmp's and, thus I couldn't upload them) are:  Billie Holiday, Bjork, Elvis Costello, and Heather Nova.

 

 

 

 

 

I have recently concluded that I need to move to a larger city.  One with some sort of public transportation system.  Not only would it provide me with a means to get where I need to go without having to rely on other people to drive me (or start driving myself.  *shudder*  No, thank you very much), but it would also do wonders for my reading. 

I have noted in the (far more than I would like to think about) years since I graduated high school, that the number of books I read on a yearly basis has declined significantly.  It's something that has, I daresay, plagued me.  Probably because my "bookworm" status has always been an integral part of my self. 

It wasn't until recently that I finally made the connectiong and figured out why I don't read as much as I used to.  I don't have a bus-ride.  90 percent of the reading I did during my school years was done on the bus to and from school.  I rarely ever sat down at home to read. 

So nothing's changed really, except the bus.  I just need a bus.  Or a train.  Or more time spent waiting.  Or maybe I just need to set aside a specific block of "reading time."  I certainly need to do something.  My "to read" list is getting longer all the time, and the clock is ticking. 

But anyway...  I think may be on the right path.  I may not be reading as often, but I seem to be attempting to make up for that in quantity, as I currently have not one, but three books that I'm in the process of reading. 

 

Snagged this one at the Half Price Books Day-After-Thanksgiving sale (because books are just about the only thing that would get me out that day).  I loved the movie, and actually had no clue that it was based on a book until I found said book.  And once I did, I had to read it.  Thus far, it's essentially what I expected--everything I loved about the movie, only far better.  And yet, not at all what I expected either... 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 This one was a Christmas present from Mum this year.  She went looking for Neil Gaiman, but (travesty!) the store she visited had none of his books in stock.  But the nice, helpful employee she spoke to recommended this author, who had recieved a shining endorsement from Gaiman.  For good reason.  This book is fantastic.  Fun and frightening and hard to put down.  And Kiernan's style is wonderfully unique, straightforward and yet poetic...  And I could probably ramble on for ages.  In short...  It.  Are.  Gud.  =P

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of my most recent book purchases.  I've been in a philosophical mood lately (I blame Isaak!muse =P), so of course, my first stop during my most recent visit to Half Price Books was the philosophy section.  Alas, they didn't have a copy of "Beyond Good and Evil" in stock.  So I grabbed this one instead.  I haven't read a great deal yet, but thus far, I'm loving it.  Philosophical poetry.  Ahhhh, Nietzsche.  *sigh*