Now that we've shelved 'Violet' again by mutual agreement, we've finally allowed ourselves to tinker with our other compositions freely and without guilt. We would have preferred to be done away with one song as stubborn as it is beautiful. A stubbornness probably a curse as much as it is a blessing. For hopefully, when we finally get it done, the creative reward ought to be no less than explosive. Much like orgasm after deliberately slow sex.
Aha, now there’s a subject I haven’t tackled at all in this blog. In a way surprising because many a songwriter have compared the creative process to sex – a most basic human thrust – forgive the pun.
Sex and the creative process. Both involve drawing deep down from welled-up emotions of love no less. So the comparison begins. Should be fun.
One cannot complete either mortal endeavor without passion and powerful emotion. To do otherwise would be nothing short of rape. Which brings me to correct a common misconception about such a sick and dastardly act – that rape is not driven by hate but rather is fueled by apathy. Absolute lack of emotion for the partner or in this case the victim. Hate, after all, is a mere passionate polarity of love, only not as strong.
So sex without emotion is rape. What then is hateful sex? Or hateful songwriting then? How is it manifested and is it common? Quite so, I say. People do it all the time. Masturbation, they call it. A most selfish act done in private. A selfishness borne of disdain for others. Selfish is the word. And so the deed. Which should account for the repressed guilt after the act.
To write songs of hate is to express egotism, a need for self-satisfaction, and greed. Creative masturbation and self-gratification. Hate is such a common undertone in many urban songs. So now I surmise that all those songs espousing hatred and violence are nothing more than ditties written by wimps with a penchant for lonely showers and dexterous hands.
What then of perversions? Exhibitionism is one. Exhibitionism is a psychological disorder causing a compulsion to bare oneself in public. To show all and bare all. Of course, music, being essentially expression, naturally reveals a lot about the author. Poetry in lyrics keeps the translation subjective and exciting, like sexy striptease, while prose or bland language makes for insipid music, like flashing or streaking. Much like the difference between artful nudes and tasteless porn. I would say then that the aim in music should be seduction. To show just enough to whet desires but not too much as to be numbing. So it is not the amount of skin then, but the moves. Ergo, it is not how much you say in your music but how well you say it.
How about prostitution? Is that the equivalent of getting paid to write jingles for cheap consumer products? Maybe if you hated doing it, it becomes so. But if you’re having the time of your life engaging in this oldest of professions, then the money isn’t the purpose but the bonus. So could that be the equivalent of a generous lover?
How about group sex, or trying to please as many partners as possible? Is that not the equivalent of the pop tendencies of many writers? Trying to please everyone including oneself?
And what of homosexuality, sex with another of the same sex? Is that not plagiarism? Or would plagiarism be incestuous sex? Guiltless copying resulting in freaks!
Is necrophilia, or the sexual act with dead bodies the equivalent of doing revivals of oldies? That might be stretching it. And what of bestiality?
I could most likely go on but I’ve got other things that need doing aside from staring at my LCD screen and thinking of sex. Of course, who’s to say that that’s not what everyone thinks of anyway? All the time.
