I find myself introspecting a LOT these days, partially because it's the beginning of what seems like could be the most profound spring in a long time and partially because I am preparing for a major life transition.
And these things are combining in a strange way, kicked off by my recent urge (which I now understand to be seasonal) to binge on the music of Sam Cooke. I didn't address it in that entry of a year ago because I think I wanted to keep it light, but Sam Cooke is a tragic figure. So handsome, dashing, debonair, and talented; killed too young in uncertain circumstances; a great and soulful singer who wrote one of the best opening lines in pop and protest music -- "I was born by the river in a little tent/and just like the river I've been running ever since".
Given that it is also Marvin Gaye's birthday, and just past the 30th anniversary of his own tragic death, I thought of him too.
And I thought of Jackie Wilson in whom I became interested recently, perhaps the most troubled of all, a person who could never find his feet in life.
These troubled people, musicians and artists, leave behind a record of themselves. But unlike their counterparts in the world of rock and roll, the songs they left behind don't necessarily tell the story of their difficult personal lives. Sam Cooke is remembered for "Cupid" and "Twistin' The Night Away", Jackie Wilson for "Higher and Higher", Marvin Gaye for "Let's Get It On".
It's not a bad thing per se. This is the nature of pop music. But the more I get to know and love pop music, and it's such a big thing that I'll be getting to know it and love it for the rest of my life, the sadder I feel about the immeasurable distance that can exist between a happy song and a happy singer.
It's just one of the saddest things. And I see the connection to my own life as I continue to balance my own struggles with mental health with the pursuit of successful creativity and happiness, and as I continue to know and love people who are doing the same.
You can't get bogged down in these thoughts; 95% of the time you have to dance to the music instead of thinking about it. But today, I want to grieve a moment for all the people who made great pop music and suffered about it. Not for their music, but for their lives.
The song: The Commodores, "Nightshift"; 1984
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
