Now, most of us know Son of a Preacher Man, right? Well, this is the same lady. She was pretty popular in the late 60s, early 70s. While the song that keeps her famous was definitely in the Top 40, so was The Windmills of Your Mind. Upon further investigation, I found that this song was featured on the soundtrack of the original Thomas Crown Affair film, performed by Noel Harrison. Then I found out that the song won an Academy Award, an OSCAR, for Best Original Song in 1969. Furthermore, another one of my recent favorites, who I discoverd only last year, made another recording of the song in 1969; the incomparable, Miss Petula Clark (77 years young this past November 15th). As if I was not feeling behind enough, the song was translated into the language of the original composer of the song... of a FRENCHMAN, Michel Legrand.
I am so out of touch.
Here's Dusty Springfield's version if you haven't heard it... It's slow, but very pretty, and more emotive than the film version: The Windmills of Your Mind
Now, for fun, here's what turned me onto the song in the first place... because I am a big fan of this polypedal freak... The Screaming Thing reminds me so much of me: What the hey?
The Muppets are just so smart... but, that's another entry for another day.
Why does this remind me of myself? Can't I just get in line? Aren't most of us semi-normal people more terrifying on the inside than on the outside?
Thing is, I feel like I think like this green and pink creature... in strands of awkward, somewhat disjointed poetry. While many of us have thoughts that are, more or less, all over the place, rarely settling down to a stable, single thought. All my thoughts sort of sound like this. I can't just make lists or cuss people out or long for the seductive peace of the past... I mean, I do all of that, too, but in bursts of haiku or song lyrics.
Let's look at the lyrics to explain what I mean...
The Windmill of Your Mind
(Music by Michel Legrand, Words by Alan and Marilyn Bergman)
Round, Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain,
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that you said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
and the fragment of a song,
half-remembered names and faces
but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
You were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of his hair?
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!
(Music by Michel Legrand, Words by Alan and Marilyn Bergman)
Round, Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain,
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that you said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
and the fragment of a song,
half-remembered names and faces
but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
You were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of his hair?
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!
As you can see, it's not these thoughts are not all referring to the craziness we humans are lucky enough to experience in our brains, but there are so many different ways in which the song describes this condition. I am the same way... always thinking of more and more accurate ways to think of a person, place, situation. And more accurate descriptions inevitably turn to other thoughts that, maybe, if you're me, relate.
This has been so much fun for me... it's not everyday that you come across a song that causes that feeling... and you have to listen to it all the time for a month or two until the people who live with you threaten to break your computer. Anya and I found maybe a handful of songs like that in high school, when your emotions are heightened and sensitive from the naivety of youth. I don't think I've connected to a song in this way since... Hmmm... I guess it's either Lena Horne's version of I Concentrate on You or Tori Amos' Beekeeper album from 2005.
Music is infectious and esoteric in this way... for whatever reason, it gets inside you and makes more sense to you than you can say. It can't be one aspect of the song... we don't connect in this urgent sort of way with songs that just have a good melody, or if we just like the lyrics. It's a whole sensation. You can't really describe it... because the song does it for you, better than you can, though you very well may be the only person you know of who can hear what you hear.
Perhaps most of us are like this... pieces of music, unique and indescribable save only to be that which it is...
Yeah. Chew on that for a minute. If you're a song, how do you sound? It reminds me of a meditation I read... that you strip away all the "I am" labels. Statements like, "I am a teacher," "I am a bad parent," "I am a good cook," etc. After removing all those statements, whatever is left over, is pure You. Reminds me of a Fraggle Rock episode (yeah, got Muppets on the brain). Cantus, the mysterious minstrel comes to the Rock to inspire a Medley. Each Fraggle must take some and time and "find his/her song," the sound of You. Each Fraggle finds a tune in his or her head that echos who they really are. The result, when you're honest and true to your Self, is something like this: Just listen... it's amusing. Click Me!
For fun, and for my few French-speaking readers, here are the lyrics again as performed by the original composer of the music:
Les moulins de mon coeur
(Translated by Eddy Marnay; Click Title to hear it.)
Comme une pierre que l'on jette
Dans l'eau vive d'un ruisseau
Et qui laisse derrière elle
Des milliers de ronds dans l'eau
Comme un manège de lune
Avec ses chevaux d'étoiles
Comme un anneau de Saturne
Un ballon de carnaval
Comme le chemin de ronde
Que font sans cesse les heures
Le voyage autour du monde
D'un tournesol dans sa fleur
Tu fais tourner de ton nom
Tous les moulins de mon cœur
Comme un écheveau de laine
Entre les mains d'un enfant
Ou les mots d'une rengaine
Pris dans les harpes du vent
Comme un tourbillon de neige
Comme un vol de goélands
Sur des forêts de Norvège
Sur des moutons d'océan
Comme le chemin de ronde
Que font sans cesse les heures
Le voyage autour du monde
D'un tournesol dans sa fleur
Tu fais tourner de ton nom
Tous les moulins de mon cœur
Ce jour-là près de la source
Dieu sait ce que tu m'as dit
Mais l'été finit sa course
L'oiseau tomba de son nid
Et voila que sur le sable
Nos pas s'effacent déjà
Et je suis seul à la table
Qui résonne sous mes doigts
Comme un tambourin qui pleure
Sous les gouttes de la pluie
Comme les chansons qui meurent
Aussitôt qu'on les oublie
Et les feuilles de l'automne
Rencontre des ciels moins bleus
Et ton absence leur donne
La couleur de tes cheveux
Une pierre que l'on jette
Dans l'eau vive d'un ruisseau
Et qui laisse derrière elle
Des milliers de ronds dans l'eau
Au vent des quatre saisons
Tu fais tourner de ton nom
Tous les moulins de mon cœur
If you get what I'm saying, and feel free to articulate, I'd be curious to know what songs are infecting the rest of you lately... What do You sound like these days?
2 comments:
I sound like a weird al yankovic medley - going everywhere and not making much sense even if it sounds familiar. an example, if you dare:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCAt9WcCFbM
Wow. This video explains so much. Teehee... but seriously, I can see what you mean. I don't even know half of the songs he was spoofing, but I have a feeling you don't either. And the collage-i-ness of the video combined with the silliness... well, yeah, I can see you here. You have that same way with repeating exactly what someone else just said... but in the subtle change of your voice or facial expression, you demonstrate how ridiculous that comment really was... It's a gift of yours that I greatly admire... I mean this both seriously and humorously, of course.
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