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Stolen From A Crow by Crispin Case-Leng

I’ve always had this deep fascination with music. How it evokes our deepest feelings, how it creates joy, lust, sorrow and awe. It truly is a special art form. One which allows humans to connect emotionally on an unparalleled level.

As a songwriter, lyrics are of utmost importance to me. They can be used to tell stories of other worlds, to express the flutter of falling in love, to philosophise on the fabric of reality and even to state ones political agenda. The possibilities are truly endless. One may be forgiven for suggesting this can also be achieved through literature and yes I agree this to be a valid point.

Stolen From A Crow

However, take away the lyrics and music still holds that exact same power. Some of the most heart wrenching and adrenaline pumping pieces are purely instrumental. (For me this particularly applies to orchestral music- I spent much of my childhood relishing the jubilation brought on by Holsts Jupiter or imagining a kingdom of trolls whilst listening to In The Halls of the Mountain King).

Perhaps more impressive to me, is the ability of music of music to knock down language barriers (to the receptive ear). I can listen to foreign music for hours, because when performed well, with an emotive, colourful voice I can feel a connection with the singer. Albeit I do not know who or what exactly they sing about word for word, but whether the song is Hebrew, Greek or Swahili, I understand their intentions due to the stress, swagger or sorrow their voice conveys. Music is the great communicator and I find it an awful shame that people allow themselves to be put off by the absence of their native tongue.

I think it is this communicative aspect that allures me so much to music. Through it I feel as though I can share stories of romance, dragons and werewolves. Songs of frivolity, conspiracy theories and monotonous jobs. I know it sounds rather hippie, but all I want to do with my life is share music (my passion) with others. I sometimes think of it as my one and only. What I turn to in all emotional states.

If I’m angry I write a song. If I’m hurt I write a song. When I’m pensive I write a song. Some may view it as a form of escapism, but I view it as my strongest connection to reality. My rawest and most intimate moments from within myself only ever truly extrude and resonate when I have a guitar in my hands and a pen and paper at the ready to etch lyrics.

 

Although when the subject of said song is about fighting zombie hordes and contemplating alien life, I hope to god that it’s escapism!

 

 

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