So the song that spurred my previous rumination, Way Down Now, is an interesting juxtaposition of upbeat music and downtrodden lyrics*. A cheery little dirge of sorts:
Inside my TV I
Never stop to wonder why
I'm way down now
Way down now
She took me by the hand
Hell was the promise land
I'm way down now
Way down now**
Meanwhile, you've got this underlying happy party vibe with a bachusinian chorus of who-who's going on in the background (think Sympathy for the Devil by the Stones) with a charming but fatalist flavor, and I found myself humming the goddam thing, ad nausem, until finally...
Actually, hold on. Let's back up a sec and put this in context. Maybe get a little continuity?
So my first point (from a previous blog) was, we are the story we tell ourselves. There's more of course, but that's the crux of it. We either self-create, or self-describe*** - or both - ourselves and our world. I'm going to assume that's self-evident and move on. If not, post me and we'll debate. Dumb*ss.
Second - my friends and the backdrop of downtown Phoenix are definitely a part of my own myth, but more specifically, that song, though appropriated, is now a part of my own particular tale.
And third - uh yeah, there's a third element yet to be added, which truthfully serves as framework for this whole diatribe, rant, blather. Whatever. And is needed to put everything else into context.
But I'll have to get back to you on that.
*Similar in town to Social Distortion's Ball and Chain or maybe even that song from the 90's about addiction, Semi-charmed Kind of Life. Something like that anyway.
**Lyrics are in no particular order, by the way, but as parsed by memory.
***And yes, these are two entirely concepts, but it's sorta chicken/egg. It's either this or it's that****
****Not to be confused with "this is that", which is so two years ago. And yes, this is a footnote to a footnote. What?