Memories that are not real
With Fleet Foxes’ self-titled debut album came a sheet of paper containing not the lyrics but an essay of sorts written, I believe, by the lead singer Robin Pecknold, (despite being somewhat hilariously attributed to a dead US President, yet spoken in 2008 or something), which talked about how so many of our memories are defined by photographs, and yet these memories are not ‘real’. Why? Think about it; a lot of your memories will be not from your own point of view, but from behind the camera lens. Being honest, I can barely even muster any memories from last summer that are not from a Facebook album (OK, there are a few).
The essay goes on to say that music does not hold this fake quality, and yet can still transport the listener back to any moment in time. Genuine memories, unclouded by what you think you remember. This really struck true with me, and I’ve now decided to do the odd blog about certain songs, and where they take me back.
(In order that I can embed the song into the blog, they’ll be in separate posts, but for the purposes of this first one just assume that it follows this post.)
