The Big Song

Certainly you know the concept of "seeing the big picture." Or at least I hope you do. It's when you don't get bogged down in the details, and try to see a situation broadly; seeing the car as a car, not a collection of auto parts.

Recently it dawned on me how much value there is in looking for the big picture. This was something that happened when I heard a song on the radio from the Beatles. It was "A Day In The Life." It has been a long time since I have heard this one, and it was quite the marvel of new technology back in 1967 when the Beatles unleashed the revolutionary Sgt. Pepper's upon an unsuspecting pop-musical world. In fact, it was so full of ear candy back then, people would spend hours just listening to it over and over, trying to listen to ever nuance. It was an exercise in musical deconstruction' "did you hear that piano part just go on forever?"

As a musician, I've performed this same exercise thousands of times. In fact, it's usually impossible for me to hear a song without isolating the drums in my head to see what the drummer is up to, or wondering what effects pedals the guitarist is using, or trying to guess if that's really a fretless bass being played or not. I am a full-time deconstructionist, when it comes to listening to music.

But recently, when I heard "Day" again for the first time in ages, something amazing happened to me. I heard this song as if for the first time, like when I was a kid back in the 70's and got ahold of my first copy of Sgt. Peppers (which was 10 years old at the time). I was not yet a musician. I did not really know how to deconstruct a song to listen for all of it's musical ingredients. I only knew how to listen to the whole song. Well, mostly. I mean, I knew there was a symphony, and I knew what the piano sounded like, etc. But I did not intentionally break anything down. I listened to the song as one unit. I could see the big picture, or, in this case, I could hear the big song.

So recently, when I rediscovered this one song, and totally dismissed my normal musical ear and reveled in the overall beauty of this amazing composition, it almost moved me to tears. I had forgotten what a song could sound like if I would not destroy it, blast it into a million pieces, and judge each piece for it's contribution. I merely heard the song, I did not analyze it. And it was amazing. For the rest of the car drive home from work, I did the same thing for each and every song that followed on the classic rock station. Even Ted Nugent's "Stranglehold" sounded fresh, powerful, and emotive.

After this experience, I noticed that there was room for this big song effect to play out in other areas of my life. Like parenting. Maybe I need to enjoy my kids sometimes instead of analyzing the heck out of everything they do. Just look at them, see the whole person, and enjoy them. And religion. I am quite the apologetic guy with my faith; I love to read all the books about what evidence there is for the validity of the Bible, for believing in the resurrection of Christ, etc. It has now dawned on me that, while these things are still good, I need to put them away every now and again and merely revel in how cool life really is. To appreciate what God has given me, without analyzing His every move. Art too. I am trying to stop seeing each brush stroke that Monet used, and look at the whole picture.

I've been doing this now for a month, and it's like spring time. I'm seeing quite a few things in a very different light. I hope that if you are like me and break it all down, maybe you can focus on hearing the big song for a change.