I am appreciative of the musical background that I grew up with. Classical, Frank Sinatra, musicals, and other "cultured" choices. Rock music was banned by my parents.
It was my brother's fault. Not my oldest brother, Luke. He was an independent soul, but not rebellious. He listened to Rush, Kansas, and did not blast it. He did not annoy anyone with it. And then he went off on his own, to seek his fortune at an early age. He was flying planes in Arkansa by the time he was in his early 20s (he actually flew Governor Clinton around). My second oldest brother, was a little bit more rebellious. He didn't do anything tragic. He just had an attitude of rebellion. He listened to Led Zeppelin. A lot. And my parents attributed his rebellion to his music. He is 10 years older then me, so by the time I became interested in my own music, I had a tough battle to encounter. Little by little, I discovered music and would introduce soft songs to my mother, sharing the lyrics with her. She did not see the music as coming between us since we were sharing it.
The first time I heard the Cure was at church.
It was probably the late 80s and there was a special guest speaker at my youth group. They had a presentation with clips of different bands and songs (mostly dated) who were satanic and evil. They played a clip from a Cure song. The Blood.
I instantly fell in love with the mood and sound. The Blood is a debatable song, and could be interpreted as being blasphemous. I discovered a lot of their other lyrics were very poetic. And yes, my mother and I listened to the Cure and Depeche Mode in the car. My dad, however, said that it sounded like cheap chinese music and that Robert Smith sounded like he was constipated and in pain. That is actually funny.
I really like Tool. I can't listen to all of their songs. Some of their messages and lyrics go against my conscience, no matter how much I love the sound. The predominant base and angst ridden vocals stir me. There is truth in their wailings. Schism is my favorite song, the lyrics are beautiful with pain, desire, regret and love.
I know the pieces fit cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing,
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end crippling our communication.
I know the pieces fit cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance
There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication
Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy sense of compassion
Between supposed lovers
Between supposed lovers
And I know the pieces fit
Schism - Tool
It was my brother's fault. Not my oldest brother, Luke. He was an independent soul, but not rebellious. He listened to Rush, Kansas, and did not blast it. He did not annoy anyone with it. And then he went off on his own, to seek his fortune at an early age. He was flying planes in Arkansa by the time he was in his early 20s (he actually flew Governor Clinton around). My second oldest brother, was a little bit more rebellious. He didn't do anything tragic. He just had an attitude of rebellion. He listened to Led Zeppelin. A lot. And my parents attributed his rebellion to his music. He is 10 years older then me, so by the time I became interested in my own music, I had a tough battle to encounter. Little by little, I discovered music and would introduce soft songs to my mother, sharing the lyrics with her. She did not see the music as coming between us since we were sharing it.
The first time I heard the Cure was at church.
It was probably the late 80s and there was a special guest speaker at my youth group. They had a presentation with clips of different bands and songs (mostly dated) who were satanic and evil. They played a clip from a Cure song. The Blood.
I instantly fell in love with the mood and sound. The Blood is a debatable song, and could be interpreted as being blasphemous. I discovered a lot of their other lyrics were very poetic. And yes, my mother and I listened to the Cure and Depeche Mode in the car. My dad, however, said that it sounded like cheap chinese music and that Robert Smith sounded like he was constipated and in pain. That is actually funny.
I really like Tool. I can't listen to all of their songs. Some of their messages and lyrics go against my conscience, no matter how much I love the sound. The predominant base and angst ridden vocals stir me. There is truth in their wailings. Schism is my favorite song, the lyrics are beautiful with pain, desire, regret and love.
I know the pieces fit cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing,
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end crippling our communication.
I know the pieces fit cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance
There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication
Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy sense of compassion
Between supposed lovers
Between supposed lovers
And I know the pieces fit
Schism - Tool
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