The Power of Music

I was caught somewhere between feeling amused and disburbed recently when I attended a school assembly and listened to a Year 3 class belt out Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” with great gusto and passion. The lyrics basically express her lament for a love that crushed her heart and soul, and her desire to see that person burn in hell. I’d like to think the angelic little 7-year olds weren’t in tune with the intent of the lyrics as much as they clearly were with the melody. "We could have had it all..." they too lamented, ironically with much enthusiasm. How crushing for them not to feel empowered to the degree they might one day be in a position to actually have it all! Isn't that what our children should be learning at school? 

It took me back to my own years at school, when learning assembly songs was the highlight of my week. I still remember the words to all the songs I learned back then, which evidences the power of repetition. The song that left the biggest imprint (scar?) on my memory was the 1949 hit “I’m Nobody’s Child,” which is about a child who was abandoned in an orphanage and nobody wants him because he’s blind. Consequently, he’s starved of “Mummy’s kisses” and “Daddy’s smiles” and “wishes he could die.” Nice. I loved it! My other favourite was Don McLean’s “Starry Starry Night” which is a song about how much Vincent Van Gogh suffered for his sanity and eventually took his own life ("as lovers often do"). I embraced those songs with intense fervor and compassion. When I sang them, I was mentally transported to a place where I  truly felt the immeasurable suffering of the subjects, and was deeply affected by the unjust tragedy of it all.  

As does any serious artist, I practiced my ‘learnings’ outside school too. I used to sing those particular songs at home all the time. I also used to sing them on long car trips we took for family holidays, in a mini, driving from Wellington to Auckland. Any budding thoughts I had to become a singer when I grew up were quickly suppressed by my parents in those days as they repeatedly asked (begged) me to “change the tune... please” (evidencing that repetition can also have adverse side-effects). She never said it out loud, but I'm sure my Mum must have been deeply concerned for my mental well-being in those days. Aside from my addiction to the morose assembly songs, I used to bury myself in paper in my bedroom writing poetry about amputee bag ladies and abandoned children. In hindsight, my inspiration was more than likely ignited by my assembly experiences. Mum must have had episodes where she questioned her parenting skills, or wondered what she might have done in a past life that would have subsequently led her to spawn such a tortured soul. I suspect it was a desperate attempt to 'turn' me when she bought me a Madonna album one day as a reward for getting a good report. To her credit (and Thank God for me) that tactic worked, as I did then begin to embrace a more upbeat style of music. It was a fabulous time in my life and and I have such fond memories of lying on the lounge floor listening to the likes of Bony M, WHAM, Nik Kershaw and ABBA on my melon sized headphones. Oh thank you ABBA! "Thank You for the Music!" I even began to thread glimpses of hope into my poems 'of that period.' I started to believe that the child might one day be rescued by a loving family, or that the bag lady might actually be a princess in disguise testing people to see if they had enough goodness in their hearts to toss her a coin, at which point she'd reveal her true self and share her worldly riches with them.  

I’d never put much thought into it before now, but in hindsight it's clear to me that the song selections made by my teachers were both insensitive and age-inappropriate. I question the impact they might possibly have had on any child who was teetering on the edge of despair before our joyous assembly ensembles tipped them completely over the edge. I find it hard to fathom why our teachers chose such songs for us. I also have a new appreciation for how my parents must have felt when I incessantly sang about being “Nobody’s Child.” How annoying. Why weren't we taught songs that empowered us; that made us feel like the world was a better place with us in it? Michael Jackson was never short of a song or twenty around those themes. God, even Karen Carpenter offered our generation a couple of uplifting songs that would have been more positively affirming than being nobody's child. 

I’m sure the Adele feature was just a glitch, perhaps because the teacher of that particular class was caught up in the wave of her rise to stardom. Thankfully, I believe 7 year olds are quite simply enjoying the tune and don’t really have a clue what they’re actually singing about. The reason I’m sensitive to the subject is that I firmly believe in the power of  repetitive affirmation. Music is a strong (albeit sometimes subliminal) influencer of that, and consequently can be a major player in the manifestation of thought. I have a playlist on my iPod called Uplifting, and I play it whenever I feel needy of  a spirit boost. Without fail, I always feel tremendously more 'uplifted' when I listen to it, despite the measure of my despair to begin with. The reverse is true too. If ever I hear morbid songs about lost love or tragic outcomes, I sink into a depression that is unfathomable given the relatively perfect life I live. 

My belief in the power of music makes me conscious of the music my children listen to. Daniel has an iPod now and I set him up with a playlist that was a subset of my own. I'm pleased he has a newly acquired appreciation for Neil Diamond, Carole King, and James Taylor - good old-fashioned hearty stuff that lifts the soul. However, he's increasingly asking me to add new songs to the list, such as "Gangnam Style" or songs from "The Little Shop of Horrors," which is basically a musical about a human flesh eating plant. I can't really deny him or suppress his transition towards 'finding himself,' so  I entertain his requests without judgement. As he grows, he'll find his own unique style and groove. I can only hope that the music roots I've laid down for him will assist in his ultimate gravitation towards positive lyrics and positive feelings. 

Mum’s the Word:

Be conscious of what your children are listening to repetitively, because repetition becomes a powerful affirmation, and affirmation becomes a powerful catalyst to behaviour.