My brother and I never shared a taste in music, though our musical preferences occasionally dovetailed. He was, in fact, the one who got Madonna’s ‘True Blue’ album first. I hadn’t come around to her completely just then, if you can imagine. Every once in a while I’d venture into his room when he was out and find some jewel of a song among the rap and hardcore bands he favored back in the late 80’s and early 90’s.
I was attracted to the colorful, psychedelic cover of ‘Lovegod’ by The Soup Dragons and its lead-off track ‘I’m Free’ – and when I delved a bit deeper I fell in love with the fourth track, ‘Softly’ – the requisite slow-burner on every rock band’s album. (Remember ‘More Than Words’?)
Figuratively, my brother had already left the nest, always a little bit ahead of me, a little braver in some ways. He went out all the time, to God knows where and with God knows whom, while my family pretended not to fret and worry, and maybe they really didn’t. I would wander into his room, where the afternoon sunlight was strongest, and sit on the floor, listening to the few good songs I could find there, watching the dust drift slowly through the air, and waiting for my moment to fly.
It was spring. The earth was about to crack open, spilling a winter that would finally melt away, melting a heart that would finally thaw from its frozen limbo.
ALL I WANTED TO
WAS TO BE WITH YOU
TO LIVE INSIDE YOUR HEAD
AND TO KILL YOU DEAD
EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR FACE
YOU KNOW I SOFTLY DIE
AND EVERYTIME I’M OUTER SPACE
YOU KNOW I SOFTLY DIE
Who could tell why I was so consumed by this song? I’m not so sure I could have put it into words myself, not then and probably not now. As it stands, I’m struggling just writing this post. There are days when the words don’t flow, when they don’t automatically assemble in a structure resembling sense or order.
It was the time of my life when I felt poised for something grand, when hormones were raging, and I wasn’t even sure where to direct my desire. I just knew that I felt something – a longing, a pull, a hesitancy, a thrill – and somehow in this simple set of chords I also realized that love might never come easily to me, that it might be the knife sheathed in something seductive and pretty, ready to draw blood, ready to draw venom.
WHEN I CUT MY HAND
AND I BREAK YOUR HEART
AND I MAKE YOUR LOVE
JUST FALL APART
EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR FACE
YOU KNOW I SOFTLY DIE
AND EVERYTIME I’M OUTER SPACE
YOU KNOW I SOFTLY DIE
Dorothy Parker once wrote a delicious poem about how breaking a heart is sometimes worse than having your own heart break. It would be lovely if that were true. I’m not so magnanimous to have ever felt that, however. Being on the receiving end of heartache would always prove more sorrowful. There is clearly more work to be done on my behalf. And while I wait, this song drones on in the background, reminding me of a different time, for better or worse…
