Musical Anger

Recently, Kaitlynn Palmer of "A Teen's Perception of Music" wrote a post on how music affects moods and gives them a voice. In light of recent events in my life, I'm going to focus on a few related moods and the music that refences them.

So my life more or less fell apart on Tuesday. First, I was late showing up to my concert, so I missed pictures. Suprisingly, my band director wasn't mad, and everything would have been fine. But no; life doesn't work like that.

I won't go into detail, but here's the general gist. I managed to lose one of my best friends via a situation that made me so mad that I punched the school bathroom wall. I now have a hairline fracture in my right hand from that, which isn't good since I need my hands a good deal more than the average person.

The concert right afterwards was interesting. You know how people have road rage? Well I essentially have music rage. I play better when I'm mad. Notes stand out more and I can play louder. It's satifying in ways most people don't understand.

After the concert, the primary song that stuck out in my head was "So What?" by P!nk. An old song, I know. But I was pissed off, and these lyrics fit:

You weren't there,
You never were,
You want it all,
But that's not fair,
I gave you life,
I gave my all,
You weren't there,
You let me fall.

The funny thing is that so many people are flat out terrified of me right now. Yeah, I punched a wall. I didn't punch a person, now did I? Still, I think it's the simple fact of what I COULD do that scares them. I'm quiet and cheerful normally, but when I get mad, look out. I'm a loose cannon. Also, when bad things happen, most people freak out and cry and all that. I don't. I laugh hysterically. Why? I have no idea, but I do. Now that I think about it, a laughing angry musician is kind of scary.

I've reached the point where I simply don't care anymore. I've let out all of my anger though songs. In sixth period on Wednesday, I spent most of the class singing Billy Joel, simply because I could. Every day, I come home and go for a run with my iPod cranked all the way up.

What am I listening to? First, "For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistc" by Paramore. The lines that really get me are:

"You were finished long before
We had even seen the start
Why don't you stand up, be a man about it
Fight with your bare hands about it now

I never wanted to say this
You never wanted to stay, well did you
I put my faith in you, so much faith
And then you just threw it away"

Next is "What the Hell" by Avril Lavigne. Yes, it's bubblegum pop, but I have a bit of an addiction to bass, and this has quite a bit.

"You never call or listen to me anyway
I'd rather rage than sit around and wait all day
Don't get me wrong, I just need some time to play"

Finally, there's "Better than Revenge" by Taylor Swift. Say what you want about her voice, but she can write a good song.

I'm just another thing for you
To roll your eyes at, honey
You might have him but I always get the last word

Music has a way of saying what we can't. Wednesday night I played Schubert's Unfinished Eighth Symphony, and there was something about the dissonance of the chords and the utter complexity of the melodies that gave me a voice. I could leave all the pain and anger, and be nothing more than then sound of a clarinet. It was something to completely focus on and give myself over to.

I yo-yo in between moods from sad to angry to bitter all woven in with confusion. But for whatever I'm feeling, music will always make it better.

Picture This

Music isn't completely aural. It's also very visual.

For example, in percussion class we spend a good bit of time making sure our stick heights are all at the same level. Why? It effects volume, and if it looks clean, it will most likely sound clean. Also, in Wind Ensemble, my director uses the concept of colors to describe the ensemble's sound. The funny thing is that my director is actually colorblind, so he lets us describe our sound. Yellow is bright and high pitched, red is dark and rich, while blues and greens tend to be minor and melancholy.

To capture the real essense of music is to do more than just listen. You have to see it and nearly feel it. It is often said after listening to great music, "it's good, but it was better live".

These are a few of my favorite pictures over the year. Essentially, here's a few pictures of my life.

Stage Lights

Setting drill for the Ancient Warriors show

Turf

 A view of the universe

DCI!

My view of marching band

Mellophone Flower with our section cooler

Festival Doesn't Involve Clowns

Last week, all the groups from my band program went all the way to West Forsyth for something we call "Festival". Other groups from all over the county went too, including middle schools. My best friend's brother is a middle school drummer, and she told me about how excited he was for Festival, since he couldn't wait to go on the rides. She then had to be the bearer of bad news and tell him that Festival isn't what it's name implies.

Festival is nothing more than a really big concert. Its actual name is the Large Group Performance Evaluation, but let's face it; that's a mouthful. A band spends about two months preparing three pieces; a march, a lyrical piece, and a technical or finale piece. All pieces must come from a master list, and every piece has a grade ranging from one to six. Sixes are the hardest music, and can only be played by the very top groups. When you go to your district festival, you play on a stage in front of three judges, who critique you on various aspects of your performance. Then you go to another room, where you sightread a piece of music you have never seen before. This is done to prove that students are musically literate; the equivalent of reading comprehesion in Spanish class. You get scores ranging from one to four, with one being the highest. Straight ones are what everyone shoots for.

This year for Festival, my band is going all or nothing; a straight six program. Our opener is His Honor, a Fillmore march that has the woodwinds' fingers flying at the very end. After we play the whole thing, my director often asks us if our hand are on fire yet. Most of the time, they are indeed metaphorically on fire. Our lyrical is a piece called Irish Tune From County Derry by Percy Grainger. You might recognize the tune as Danny Boy, but in reality this piece is much older than the song. Honestly, I sit there and do nothing for fourty one straight measures, while trying not to kill out of tune trumpet players with my broken reeds. It's a beautiful song, but you have to be perfectly in tune, otherwise it's completely ruined. The finale is The Marriage of Figaro overture by Mozart. Originally written for strings, the only word that can describe this piece is insane. It is played at around 290 beats per minute, which is certifiably crazy. Fingers fly for four and a half minutes straight, and after the very last note, I have a weird desire to stand up and scream "I DIDN'T DIE!!!!!". But I can't do that, even though it would be downright hilarious.

Festival is the primary opportunity that student musicans have to show what they know. Academic classes have EOCT's and such; band has Festival.