The Greatest Sad Song Ever
By: Zack Menchel
…WOULD BEGIN
WITH a sound so subtle and soft and melodic that you would stop typing your
reports, close your current thread on Imgur, lean back in your uncomfortable
black office chair, adjust the volume on your computer speakers, tell the desk
to hold your calls, tell your boss to
get his own damn coffee for
heaavenssake, that’s why God gave you feet,
and drift straight through the piece, marveling that you had indeed stumbled
upon or heard a song quite like that, and you think, Man, this is why I listen to music, to be lulled and comforted like
that, wow.
The next
bars would effortlessly and fluidly move you into a state of self-reflection, a
small reflection, easily accessed, something personal but not self-righteous or
self-accusing on your part, just sort of skimming the surface of every day
thoughts maybe highlighting your coffee this morning or the girl in the train,
but then there would suddenly be a sharp incline in intensity, and you are
plunged into waaay deeper thoughts, you didn’t see it coming at all, and you accidentally shiver, your
whole body freezes, and soon, maybe while you are taking a sip of your luke-warm
Starbucks you had picked up this morning on your way to the office, you think, My God, songs really do have roaring power,
songs are the most crucial and necessary sound, how come we never hardly say
that out loud?
The next
minute then spirals out of control toward a line of explosive guitar riffs on
the upper end of the audible spectrum. Probably the riffs get louder, more
intense. Wailing. Crying. Shards of melodies. But there’s no calming or coming
down, just one note leading into another, each one making plain sense, a child
or even your boss could easily appreciate the solo and its emotional
implications, and there’s no slowing down of tempo, no over-powering drums, no
eloquent lyrics, no interruptions or signs of an end, just clear musical
statements one after another, fitting together like fine brandy and an
extravagant silk robe.
Then an odd
part, this is a most unusual and peculiar song, for right here where you would
normally expect those melodic entrances from singers, some sort of fade to a
calming riff, some pause or switch, there’s only the quiet sound of the
feedback in the microphone tiptoeing back to the song the band was playing a
couple minutes ago. The song slips back into its original melodic gentleness, a
little shy, holding onto its passion, nothing dramatic, in fact it offers a few
distant hints of the wailing heard before the silence, and then it gently
slides away off of your ear drums, it almost evanesces or dissolves, and it’s
only later, after you have listened to the song three times with mounting
indifference, that you see quite how the writers managed to seemingly slip away
to your periphery, but that’s the stuff of another deep-set internal reflection
for another time.
And finally
the song ends. It turns out that the perfect sad song is quite plain, it’s a
low slow thing, an emotion and not a song at all, and here at the end there’s a
flash of sarcasm, and a hint or tone or feeling of cleansing, a touch of
relief, you can’t quite put your finger on it but it’s there, a dark memory in
your subconscious, and there’s also a shot of hope, hope against all odds and
sense, but there’s no butterflies, no sudden inspiration, no guidance toward
the right direction, no hint that you, yes you, should be ashamed of how long
you just sat at your desk listening to the same sad song. Nor is there a
clarity, a decision made, a last flash of the past. Oddly, slowly, the song just
ends with a feeling eerily like a ghost transitioning through the wall, and you
sit there, glassy eyed, jaw set, and then you start typing you daily numbers
again. Tranquil.
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