Music is powerful. It can get right under your skin when you least expect it. I had this experience last night.
I downloaded the new Pink album, The Truth About Love, and then settled in to listen as I was falling asleep. Well now, Pink’s music is probably a little too lively to fall asleep to and it wasn’t exactly doing the trick. So, when song # 9, Beam Me Up, came on, I was expecting another high energy song. Instead I got a soft guitar intro and Pink’s quieter, more vulnerable voice. Not fully paying attention (to be honest I had begun to play a game on my iPhone while listening) I was surprised to find myself crying after the second verse. Completely unprompted. It was the soaring music, which by this time included a violin, more than the words but then:
“There are times I feel the shiver and cold
it only happens when I’m on my own
that’s how you tell me I’m not alone”
(now I’m officially balling, – it’s that word ALONE that always does it)
“Could you beam me up
give me a minute
I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare
happy just to be there, holding your face
could you beam me up
let me be lighter
I’m tired of being a fighter
I think – a minute’s enough
Could you beam me up?”
I admire people who can write songs that convey, through lyrics and their perfect musical arrangements, so succinctly what is felt so deeply. I’ve been trying to write about my personal feelings about losing my mother (it’s partially because the anniversary is coming up that I feel so emotionally susceptible to a song like this) for the almost 15 years she’s been dead. I feel I’ve never been successful. The feelings are buried so far down by now but they are still so raw and I can never get to the crux of them. I just miss her.
All I can do is thank the musicians for their work – as artists, they quest for perfection and relatability in the songs they send out in the world. I doubt they really know how often they strike us at the exact time we need them.