go to mush

by pieces of moments

I have a confession, kids: I’m a hopeless romantic. Underneath this forward thinking, wit cultivating, atonal loving, fast paced exterior, I go to total mush when something flips that closely guarded switch. I blame the modern day idea of romance for my exterior disdain of the whole business – the one you see spreading like putrid gray-green mold on a good piece of bread – distributed through movies or those horrible “chick-lit” books (I wince at even calling them books, a waste of a good tree is more like it). It’s so gross that romance has become a commodity.

But then again, I think to myself, when did it become a commodity? Maybe that’s why I hate Franz Liszt with all his throwing around his emotions in his music and personae, weaving them into a perfect web of celebrity? Maybe its just the excess I despise. These are the things that keep me up at night. Seriously. I know. Let’s not talk about it.

But really, romance is really about vulnerability, isn’t it? Its symptoms are the flowers, candles, meticulously planned dates, and amorous whispers, but underneath is extreme risk taking, no?

Maybe that’s why I like this song so much. Maybe it’s also why I like this version. It’s stark. Bare set, sparse accompaniment, severe minor key introduction, all working to evoke the emotion of risk – the lowering of defenses, the admission of two possibilities in the delicate yin and yang of unbearable pain or unspeakable joy.

Don’t you just love the way a bunch of little dots and lines on a page can say all that if put to use correctly? Thank you Young/Heyman, and Cole.

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