I love the joyful noisiness of rock and roll (not all rock and roll, and not all the noisiness—too much can kill you, no matter how joyful it is)—but certain greasy, salty, sneering combinations of drums, guitars and vocals still grab me.
I’ve played in bands since I was tall enough to climb a drum throne and reach all the drums. I still prefer electric music. There’s a certain crucial threshold of amplitude required to make me feel at home.
“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord,” sayeth one Psalm. Perhaps that referreth to what I’m talking about.
The fact that I would often pass out, crumple and hurl at concerts (due to lack of oxygen, not ingestion of chemicals) never dampened my enthusiasm, nor did the inescapable pain my ears once endured during a Butthole Surfers’ “scream-through-outrageously-amplified-megaphone” number at CBGB’s.
One of my old bands—a Hare Krishna hardcore punk band—used to rehearse in a storage closet in an office building. We stuffed so many drums and amps in there that there was nowhere to stand. Really.
I sat behind the drums and the three guitar players stood in open doorways. We rehearsed for hours, hammering out a battery of sonic assault loud enough to loosen our fillings and kill all vegetation in the yard. All the amps were pointed at me. We clamped gun muffler ear protectors on our heads.
Thankfully, gun muffler headphones were designed to help stave off shattered eardrums even in the midst of full-scale artillery bombardment. They gripped my skull like a vise, squashing my head until I felt like a fish or a specimen for somebody’s scrapbook. I thank God I can still hear.
“Can’t you just play softer?” our neighbors, the office workers asked.
“No.”
Rock and roll has to be played loud. It should not only crush out all other sound, but it should be felt in the bones of the chest. The sternum should shudder. It has to be joyful and noisy.
»I thank God I can still hear.«
Not so fast, there, my dear husband. As far as I’m concerned, you might as well be deaf sometimes.
hahahaha, go Mataji!
What??!?
Oh…yes hearing is so important and I too was taking it for granted, so now my wife persuaded me to get hearing aids. Now I wonder if I should of just paid more attention!
Although something about those high notes that really “crisps-up” a song, bass you can feel. We were fortunate to recently see/hear Ravi Shankar & his daughter in concert, the reverbs are essential for the real experience and subtle sound is to be appreciated
It’s still nice to be able hear the leaves rustle in the wind and birds singing, then the 747 takes off….
No matter how hard I might have tried, the rocker in me hasn’t died… And 20+ years after getting my KC spark I’m still thrilled by the sound of a distorted electric guitar. A short while ago I finally gave up trying to shake it off. What’s the use? Krishna says in Bhagavad-gita, What can repression accomplish? Chant Hare Krsna and PLAY IT LOUD!!!
BTW for me rock music is inextricably connected with the Lord, in a way I’m not sure I really understand, but can sure feel it. So Ekendra, congrats on your bloggings, you made my day. Thank you.