My whole family is into music. My brother’s iPod is stuffed with all kinds of music (genres: unknown/too varied to list here). Hubby thinks Bryan Adams is the cat’s own whiskers (or maybe I ought to change that to a dog idiom as Hubby detests cats). Dad and Mom love all the oldie goldie Malayalam songs and have vinyl records and cassette recordings to prove it.
I wonder – am I the only person in my family who hates songs? No, no…wait a minute – I don’t HATE songs – I just don’t understand all the fuss being made about their lyrics. To me, a song is just the music – something to be hummed in the shower (remember – to hum, and not sing). I am so retarded in that quarter, that I usually begin to get a headache within 15 minutes of plugging into a headphone with ‘lyrical’ songs.
I am happier with a song if I cannot make head or tail of the words.
During my College years, I had friends who swore by music, and could converse very knowledgeably on different musicians and their styles, and could play Antakshari for hours at a time, while I gawked in wonder. So much so that I used to try watching MTV and V-Channel to get a glimpse into that world.
The only song lyrics I knew (and still do) in my 20+ years of existence, are the nursery rhymes that I still sing vehemently to Baby, a few Christmas Carols, and the Doe-A-Deer song from The Sound of Music.
Due to this peculiar penchant of mine, my favourite musicians are Yanni (ah, he is DIVINE) and Enya. Yanni has lovely concert/piano music , while Enya keeps making songs in or some such incomprehensible extra-planetary languages. But no matter, as long as I don’t understand what they are singing about, they keep me happy and kicking 😀 😀
*Thanks to lesleehare for giving me the idea for this post.