Looking for America

I just got Bookends in the mail. Sitting here, listening to it, three things come to mind: the genius of Paul Simon, the oddity of Art Garfunkel, and the novelty of vinyl.

There is something about Paul Simon's lyrical genius, that speaks to me like no other music ever has, nor, I believe, like any other music can. After even the roughest of days, come home, close the door, turn out the lights, and listen to Sounds of Silence from beginning to end. When the last chord of "I Am A Rock" fades away, knowing that "an island never cries," I dare you to say that the world is not an inherently good place. I dare you to think that whatever you're going through, cannot be gotten through. I dare you to not be calm, serene, and hopeful.
I dare you.

The line between genius and insanity is often thin, blurred, and some times, if not most, all but nonexistent. But if there was ever an individual to ride the line between profundity and mere oddity, that individual is Art Garfunkel. Many would readily state that Garfunkel has ridden and continues to ride on Paul Simon's coattails of brilliance; however, he has had some solo adventures. Take for example, while I'm listening to Bookends, "Voices of Old People." The album cover states that "Art Garfunkel recorded old people in various locations in New York and Los Angeles over a period of several months." Now let's think... Hm...I want to find some people, get some interesting words of wisdom out of them, and record those words. What sorts of people should I talk to? Philosophers? Nah... Homeless people? No, thanks... Musicians? Nope... Authors? Literally, no... I've got it! Let's record bits of vocal mumbo jumbo from fogies which border on senility! That's it! But we'll edit out the babble and just get those words of wisdom. On second thought, let's do the opposite! Who needs words of wisdom? Wisdom is in the babble.
Ok, I exaggerate. But when I saw the track, I had hopes. But, Art, I was disappointed. There are snippets of wisdom in there, but they are short.

In this, the Age of the iPod, we can be serenaded by whatever high school dropouts have uploaded their angst-filled tunes. Not only that, but you can be plugged in while exercising, studying, driving, sitting in a lecture, or conversing with another.
When did music become a background occupier? When did music become something you do while you're doing something else? A second thought? Something to drive out the silence? Something to keep our goldfish-esque attention spans occupied?
When is the last time you sat down and listened to music? I'm not talking about going to a concert. And I'm not even talking about the last time you had music playing without doing anything else. I'm asking you when the last time was that you sat down, and the sole occupant of your mind at that time, was the music. You sit back, close your eyes, and let the chords, verses, melodies, and choruses coarse through you. Flow around your heart. Surge through your mind. Fill your emotions. Guide your thoughts.
That is when you stop listening to music, and begin experiencing music.

I'm willing to bet two things. First, that if you've ever truly done that, it's been quite awhile. Second, it was with an LP.

Vinyl is the only way, outside of live performances, to experience music.