Thirty Days of Song - Day Twenty
May. 11th, 2020 07:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elrhiarhodanDay Twenty - A song that has many meanings to you
Tannahill Weavers - Braw Burn the Bridges (Cullen Bay)
Sorry for bailing on you guys yesterday, and don't know if I'm going to be much better today.
I can't say why I picked this song for today's entry - it isn't one that has many meanings to me. It's a beautiful modern song in the folk tradition that might be one of my favorite songs ever. It's irrevocably tied to July 4th, 1990, when I was living in Philadelphia. I had an apartment that faced the Delaware River and a rooftop deck, where I watched the fireworks go off. In New York, the equivalent location would be a condo on the South Street Seaport.
After the fireworks ended - probably 10:30 PM, I went back to my first-floor, inner courtyard apartment and put on this song. Not the album, but the song. I might have had the windows open, but as a rule, I don't turn the volume up past 4 or 5 (sensitive hearing). As the song ended, someone called me - it was the landlord's office, requesting that I turn down my music, I was disturbing other tenants.
I was stunned and not a small bit humiliated and I turned off the stereo. In my now quiet apartment, I could hear the other tenants' stereos, as well as the very raucous nightlife just a block away. I shut the windows and spent a sleepless night wondering if the person complaining just picked an apartment at random.
Because honestly, there's no bass and no percussion in this song, it's all gentle violins and penny whistles and sad voices longing for home.
Tannahill Weavers - Braw Burn the Bridges (Cullen Bay)
Sorry for bailing on you guys yesterday, and don't know if I'm going to be much better today.
I can't say why I picked this song for today's entry - it isn't one that has many meanings to me. It's a beautiful modern song in the folk tradition that might be one of my favorite songs ever. It's irrevocably tied to July 4th, 1990, when I was living in Philadelphia. I had an apartment that faced the Delaware River and a rooftop deck, where I watched the fireworks go off. In New York, the equivalent location would be a condo on the South Street Seaport.
After the fireworks ended - probably 10:30 PM, I went back to my first-floor, inner courtyard apartment and put on this song. Not the album, but the song. I might have had the windows open, but as a rule, I don't turn the volume up past 4 or 5 (sensitive hearing). As the song ended, someone called me - it was the landlord's office, requesting that I turn down my music, I was disturbing other tenants.
I was stunned and not a small bit humiliated and I turned off the stereo. In my now quiet apartment, I could hear the other tenants' stereos, as well as the very raucous nightlife just a block away. I shut the windows and spent a sleepless night wondering if the person complaining just picked an apartment at random.
Because honestly, there's no bass and no percussion in this song, it's all gentle violins and penny whistles and sad voices longing for home.
