We sometimes look outside ourselves to know ourselves better (it’s an odd, utterly human paradox.) For an astute fan of literate pop music, sometimes the words of a song seem to touch something deep inside...and hearing it, one runs to their secret place and makes sure their diaries are still safe then listen again, amazed that anybody could "know" them so well...
...run my name through your computer,
mention me in passing to your college tutor,
check my records, check my facts,
check if I've paid my income tax,
pore over everything in my C.V.,
but you'll still know nothing 'bout me...
It's a romantic fallacy, of course...songwriters don't really write about other people (not on a fundamental level anyway), they write about themselves, their loves and experiences, their foibles and observations, their oft-times jaded view of the world (or their proudly optimistic view of the world...)
And still...
I'm a simple man, it's no big mystery,
in the cold weather, a hand needs a glove,
at times like this, a lonely man like me needs love...
One looks over their journals once more, wonders to whom they might have injudiciously revealed some secrets, and listens once more, amazed that anyone could "know" them so well without knowing them at all.
But still, life is life...and a song... a song is just a song. It doesn't mean any more than that...
turn over everything 'cause I won't be at home...
...songwriters aren't on anybody's "wavelength" other than their own...
...set up your microscope and tell me what you see...
...and projecting ourselves into the lyrics of a pop song is just an egocentric affectation, when all is said and done...
...you'll still know nothing 'bout me...
Well, unless…maybe…just maybe... it was a Paul Simon song. In younger days, I often found "myself" in the lyrics of an unsettling number of his songs..."Still Crazy After All These Years", "Paranoia Blues", "You Can Call Me Al", "The Sound of Silence", and especially (in my silliest and saddest moods...which, thankfully, occur with far less frequency here in my dotage thanks to the weight and wisdom of age):
...I've built walls, a fortress deep and mighty,
that none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship...
friendship causes pain...
it's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock...I am an island...
I celebrated those words during my oh-so-sensitive youth (teenaged poets are always “oh-so-sensitive”…goes with the territory)...took them to heart… wallowed in them when, for fleeting moments and minutes, real life became too much to deal with.
I slipped away to my secret place and counted my journals...then I listened again, amazed that anybody could "know" me so well...
...I have my books, and my poetry, to protect me,
I am shielded in my armor;
hiding in my room, safe within my womb,
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock...I am an island...
It was a gentler madness, I suppose...
...and a rock feels no pain;
and an island never cries...
Yeah, right.
"Nothing 'bout Me"
words & music by Sting
(©1992 Blue Turtle Music)
* * * * *
"I Am a Rock"
words & music by Paul Simon
(©1965 Paul Simon)
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