Melodious Doctrine
by Zak Freed. Edited by Mylynda Nellermoe.
I’ve learned a lot about life and methods that drive it from the homeless. I remember living in Indianapolis for a couple of years, where I first found my love for sharing unfortunate stories. I’d take the bus from E. 33rd downtown to go loiter around outside of Circle Center, where it was always a pretty musical area in the open air and at all times of the year. Sax players, bagpipe guy, my doppelganger banging out tomorrow’s IDM beats on drywall buckets, and plenty of other down-lucked performers who had plenty to say were definitely a better date than most local bars. Where it’s cheaper to put your favorite whiskey into an empty two liter bottle of coke when you go out; what I loved and learned the most from my friends was that they had lost everything. There were no belongings, their families were gone and they had no one to confide in…but they still had their instruments and in those moments they were always thankful for that, while I was just the same.
A lot of people take something as simple as music for granted, and why not? It’s everywhere, it’s not going anywhere, you aren’t going to ever lose it; but there is a different love for it with those of us that depend on it. We live for it, and will die in its absence. It’s not background noise, it isn’t a time-waster, and it’s not just something we’re involved with because we think it’s cool, either. I would gladly give up anything in this world in a heartbeat, and I would sooner explode myself than not be able to write and also listen to the vibes and happenings of other kindred spirits.
Most points of life in almost all forms of artists are sharpened by their ability to install that “just letting go” philosophy into their heads. Nothing is held in, and it sure as hell shouldn’t ever be watered down. This process is followed through not just by alcohol alone, but also by the fact that carving out your guts to thoroughly explain something can just feel good. I think that in most songs out there, the artist will have absolutely had someone in mind that they wanted to have heard it first: Friends, lovers, haters… whoever it might be. So when you not only have this starting point that’s totally devoid of distractions and false advertisements, and you hone that in on someone in particular, you will always give a personal and truthful meaning to what you’re doing.
No matter what you play when something like this sets you in motion, or how good you are or are not at what you do; it will always result in pure, realistic sound.
Just like that message you sent to someone that afterwards you wished you hadn’t, I find myself with piles of songs that are exactly the same thing. I enjoy communicating this way for a couple of reasons:
The first is that the person I’ve composed something for may not ever hear it, which in the case of a mood-change would definitely be a plus. Otherwise, for everything I’ve said above, I enjoy that something so personal can have the potential be defined in so many other ways by unintended listeners. I’ll keep on talking to the world, useless phrases or not, because I won’t shut up.
