Sitting Here

A former student of mine reminded me, not too long ago, that I once conducted a pastoral care session in class that was based on the songs of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. Memory served him well, and my own memory tells me that the songs in question were 'I Am A Rock', 'Homeward Bound', 'The Sound of Silence', 'Scarborough Fair/Canticle', and 'Bridge Over Troubled Water'.

I think that the best songwriters in terms of longevity (and their infiltration into the memetic web of society) are those who craft songs that speak to general states of being, but in such a way that they seem to speak to specific instances, specific feelings (such as a particular kind of melancholy) and specific personae. When I was with that class (and all the other classes which I inflicted this particular kind of lesson on), I genuinely believed that given good songs, students would respond (even if these songs were first performed way before they were born).

More importantly, good songs make us examine ourselves, not just look at ourselves. When you're sitting there in a railway station, do you think about it as a stop on the journey of life? When you listen to the percussive triumph-against-the-odds mood of 'Bridge Over Troubled Water', do you feel your spirits rise as you contemplate the blessings of only-death-will-part-us-now friends? These songs won't make everyone do this; for each person there are songs, and other songs, and different songs — but there are always songs.

So I'm sitting here in an Internet station, backing up my iTunes library on a beautiful blue LaCie brick drive...