Who owns the song?
Seems like a silly question, right? Of course it is the songwriter. The songwriter or writers, as the case may be, own the song and should be paid for usage and airplay. End of story. Art, and artists enrich our lives and should be rewarded with royalties.
But there is one thing the artist can never own. Music is about many things, its scope of influence in our lives is hard, if not impossible, to measure. And while the artist owns the song, the artist can never own your relationship to that song. We are talking about levels of control. While the artist may control who can or can’t play that music, or use it in a commercial, or a political campaign, the artist does not have complete control over that song in the larger sense.
Once an artist releases a song into the atmosphere the song takes on a life of its own. For when the listener is stirred by a particular recording or performance it has begun an interactive relationship that involves a person the artist may never know.
Seems like a silly question, right? Of course it is the songwriter. The songwriter or writers, as the case may be, own the song and should be paid for usage and airplay. End of story. Art, and artists enrich our lives and should be rewarded with royalties.
But there is one thing the artist can never own. Music is about many things, its scope of influence in our lives is hard, if not impossible, to measure. And while the artist owns the song, the artist can never own your relationship to that song. We are talking about levels of control. While the artist may control who can or can’t play that music, or use it in a commercial, or a political campaign, the artist does not have complete control over that song in the larger sense.
Once an artist releases a song into the atmosphere the song takes on a life of its own. For when the listener is stirred by a particular recording or performance it has begun an interactive relationship that involves a person the artist may never know.
I am always curious about what inspired a certain piece of music. What did the writer intend to convey with the lyrics? Does the music convey the same message? Is it a work that is more universal to human experience or more singular to the life of an individual? And what does it mean to me?
That last question is the one that matters most, at least to me. Sometimes I want to know the story behind the song, and at other times I don’t. Often, the memories and emotions evoked by a piece of music are so intensely personal that the story behind the song becomes irrelevant. Often the reasons bypass intellect and go straight to the heart.
That last question is the one that matters most, at least to me. Sometimes I want to know the story behind the song, and at other times I don’t. Often, the memories and emotions evoked by a piece of music are so intensely personal that the story behind the song becomes irrelevant. Often the reasons bypass intellect and go straight to the heart.
Years ago I saw a documentary on Van Morrison. At one point in the film it showed Van singing with Bob Dylan at the Acropolis is Greece. They were playing acoustic guitars and Van introduced the song “Foreign Window” saying that sometimes you don’t always know what a song means or where it comes from. He added that one line may be about one thing and another line may be about something else altogether. He implied that those meanings change, that one part of the song might even be about Dylan and that the idea had just crossed his mind in that instant.
It was a great observation from a poetic champion. That song holds very specific and emotional connections for me. And, as Van noted, one line might be about something completely different from the line that preceded it. In other words, I can’t fit every line into the narrative, they don’t all apply in the specific. But as a piece of whole cloth it forms a canvas that my memory is painted on. Whenever I hear that song I am reminded of a friend and fellow brother in the faith who lost his life when complications set in a few days after his heart transplant.
Music has that ability to bring you to a certain place or time, to recall an event or a relationship. I love film scores for the way they texture the emotional layers of a movie. Stirring soundtracks from films like Patton or The Magnificent Seven are instantly recognizable. When my youngest son graduated from basic training at Fort Benning there was an impressive display demonstrating the different roles that soldiers play in a rifle team. As they moved across the field the PA played the theme to Last of the Mohicans. Someone in charge was messing with my heart.
Music touches the whole range of feeling. Anger, pride, sadness, comedy. The soundtrack to Last Chance Harvey is pure genius. The score of the film articulates the tentative and fragile emotional states of Emma Thompson and Dustin Hoffman. James Taylor always makes me think of North Carolina, not just because he lived there, but because I was living there the first time I heard “Fire and Rain.” The music of Richie Furay and Poco bring back thoughts of driving over to my girlfriend’s house. Fast forward. That girlfriend has now been my wife for thirty-nine years. I am a deeply blessed man. And my pulse still quickens when I hear “Just for Me and You.”
My experience is not unique in this regard. Every one reading this has those memories and reactions that are specifically their own. And that is why, even if your favorite song is not my cup of tea, who am I to disparage it? That is the great thing about the relationships music makes for us. And it is really wonderful when we can find friends with whom we can share those memories. Feel free to leave comments or memories about that piece of music that does it for you.
It was a great observation from a poetic champion. That song holds very specific and emotional connections for me. And, as Van noted, one line might be about something completely different from the line that preceded it. In other words, I can’t fit every line into the narrative, they don’t all apply in the specific. But as a piece of whole cloth it forms a canvas that my memory is painted on. Whenever I hear that song I am reminded of a friend and fellow brother in the faith who lost his life when complications set in a few days after his heart transplant.
Music has that ability to bring you to a certain place or time, to recall an event or a relationship. I love film scores for the way they texture the emotional layers of a movie. Stirring soundtracks from films like Patton or The Magnificent Seven are instantly recognizable. When my youngest son graduated from basic training at Fort Benning there was an impressive display demonstrating the different roles that soldiers play in a rifle team. As they moved across the field the PA played the theme to Last of the Mohicans. Someone in charge was messing with my heart.
Music touches the whole range of feeling. Anger, pride, sadness, comedy. The soundtrack to Last Chance Harvey is pure genius. The score of the film articulates the tentative and fragile emotional states of Emma Thompson and Dustin Hoffman. James Taylor always makes me think of North Carolina, not just because he lived there, but because I was living there the first time I heard “Fire and Rain.” The music of Richie Furay and Poco bring back thoughts of driving over to my girlfriend’s house. Fast forward. That girlfriend has now been my wife for thirty-nine years. I am a deeply blessed man. And my pulse still quickens when I hear “Just for Me and You.”
My experience is not unique in this regard. Every one reading this has those memories and reactions that are specifically their own. And that is why, even if your favorite song is not my cup of tea, who am I to disparage it? That is the great thing about the relationships music makes for us. And it is really wonderful when we can find friends with whom we can share those memories. Feel free to leave comments or memories about that piece of music that does it for you.
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