Sing, Singing, Singer, Singed, Sang , Sung….

It’s a very old observation, nothing new here, but I was indulging myself with watching an old Pogues video, “Dirty Old Town”, and I somewhat solidified something for myself (and probably ONLY for myself): there are those that sing because they have nice voices, and those that sing because that HAVE to.

Bob Dylan is the obvious, and far too easy, example of this, but really, it does seem somewhat true far beyond that.  I’ve never been all that impressed by a good or great voice, and maybe that is because I don’t have one myself.  BUT, I would like to think it is because I am waiting for something that involves or reflects the human struggle/soul.  A good voice?  Blame God, but don’t take credit for it.  Personally, I have always thought of a good voice as something akin to a pretty songbird–something to adorn the sitting parlor, but nothing to get attached to.  A good voice does not change lives.  A good message does.

I wholeheartedly admit that my own singing voice is somewhere between a scratch and a warble, so don’t go calling sour grapes, coz it just ain’t true.  I want to be moved, and the only thing that seems to do that is hearing something that is singular, something that no one else can give me.  I want to be shattered to my foundation, not entertained.

Enough….for now.  Godspeed Shane McGowan, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, etc….sometimes, the message is the music.

To my ears, anyway.

la la la la la la la…

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