"What A Day, What a Life, Ahhhh"

Oh, just think about how much I could be writing about! What a year. What a drain. Energy vampires around every corner. They suck me dry of the desire to write about it. I do have a desire to share this with you all though.

I know I have written about music many times here. Music is incredibly important to my mental, emotional, and spiritual health. There are several artists who speak to me that I love and adore, but London Grammar is the one band that produces the sounds that speaks about me. They are the sound I would produce if my body was a musical instrument. Want to understand how I'm feeling on the inside? There's always a London Grammar song for that. Have you seen those devices that amplify the energy that plants emit, and it sounds like ambient music? Well, London Grammar is that device for my body.

"What A Day" in particular right now.

I want to break this down for you, because I think this is a great way to explain what I feel like most of the time.

It starts with Hannah's higher head voice breaking down into a low vocal fry soft scream, which she uses to state the mood. Then the slow driving beat of the piano, and her low voice slowly erupts into a type of subtle scream with her "ahhhh." Slowly the drums carry the driving beat forward while the piano sounds more erratic if you pay attention to it.

The textures of the various beats from the piano, drums, and later the guitar perfectly fit my heart beat and adrenaline. They mingle together like they're at odds with each other. They express the current that keeps flowing in my body to keep me going. Do you hear how they sound unsettled, never quite resolving into a comfortable sound? I have that type of forced drive always coursing through me. But even though the tempo is not slow, do you hear how her vocals sound slow, dissociated, and not matching the beat? How her vocals are a different current on top of the foundation? That's my inner voice. Very low energy, despite that drive below the surface, and what I express comes out as a soft wandering frantic anxiety. It takes the majority of the song before she sings an actual melody with coherent phrases, and then it's short lived before she breaks her vocals down again into the pleading soft screams. Do you hear how this song expresses the evening at the end of a long hard day, when cortisol levels should be dropping so you can wind down, but you just can't let go to actually rest? That's the state I live in 90% of the time. I'd like to see you function like a normal human being when this is your best energy level.