Did you ever have a time when words just weren’t enough?
I don’t know why, but when I was a kid I sang a lot. Still do. I remember watching old musicals on television and seeing people running down the street singing. That didn’t seem weird to me; that seemed cool. When I got a little older and started noticing that girls had a certain effect on me, in that I couldn’t think or speak clearly when around them, I could still sing. Oh, I would often be alone singing to myself –maybe at high volumes while in the shower or when I was pushing a lawnmower. But I found that through singing I was able to reach something deeper and more complete. When I learned to play guitar at ten-years-old, I discovered a whole new level of emotional expression through music.
Still today, my deepest emotions are accompanied by music and melody. Sometimes the songs don’t even have words. Often the songs are sad like George Harrison’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” At other times they are happy like “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” Many times the songs are original ones that you are never likely to hear.
One singer/songwriter, Jim Croce, expressed this for me so clearly years ago as he sang, “I’ll Have to Say I Love You in a Song”:
Well, I know it’s kind of late
I hope I didn’t wake you
But what I got to say can’t wait I know you’d understand
Ev’ry time I tried to tell you
The words just came out wrong
So I’ll have to say I love you in a song (Jim Croce)
Yep, I’ll confess, I’ve sung this song and meant it. In fact, I think I live it. I know I don’t play like Clapton or sing like Willie, but my heart still finds ways to express itself through music. So if you are talking to me one day, and I say, “That reminds me of a song,” don’t be surprised. It’s just a way I share with people I really care about. — Bob Tatum
Keep up with our schedule for the holidays. It can change quickly based on weather and other factors. Make New Year’s Eve plans for Appleby’s on Merritt Island. Sound Traveler will love it if you do.
To respond to this web log, click on the title, scroll down, and put your thoughts (musical or otherwise) on paper.
9 Comments to “SongTravelin’: 12.15.10 — When Words Aren’t Enough”
Post comment
Music Samples
In the news
Upcoming shows
She was an older lady in a wheelchair, with animated face, sparkling eyes, and snowy ...
I guess every musician in every group has imagined playing before a capacity crowd of ...
When you arrive at The Dandelion Communitea Café in Orlando, don’t look for glass doors ...
A little before sunrise on April 17, she began her final flight. Tethered to ...
- Nick Hultman:Pretty nice post. I just stumb
- admin:Absolutely! A couple of years
- Art Deene:Love the Moody Blues. That g
- Patty:I feel blessed to be able to s
- Art Deene:Very nicely written Bob. Davy
Admin says:
Beatles did happen to be a big influence on me, but I’m also interested in what groups are speaking to you today. I know there are some great songs out there today that I’m sure you know better than I. I can learn from you.
Laurence says:
What’s it with you and the Beatles. There are some great songs out there by groups today – And they’re even alive.
Ellie Hjemmet says:
Since our local NPR station went to mostly all talk/news formula, I’ve lost my ability to keep up with what is current in the music world. I’ve got to have a chance to hear what’s percolating below the TOP 40 lists to find the new gems that speak to me. I don’t know what kind of radio you guys have down your way, but our loss here is a big one for me. Acoustic music is my focus and interest and I’m not often able to afford festivals or go out for live music. So HOW do you keep up with the new stuff, Lawrence?
I do listen to “Crossroads” music on DISH, and Au;stin City Limits and go to one fine venue where my song works and there’s no cover.
I’ve heard two local bands at the Acoustic Coffeehouse in Johnson City TN that I particularly loved, The Barefoot Movement (one of the ETSU Bluegrass/Old Time Program bands that really making a name for themselves) and The Penny Dreadfuls, a band that has a THERAMIN and has a really different sound with great vocals by Charis Hickman. Oh yes, and my friend, Butch Ross, who is a master dulcimer player and songwriter… he loops tracks, plays several instruments, always thrilling, non-traditional. (You’d love his “Eleanor Rigby” Bob!)
I like a lot of what I hear at the A.C., but not many make me want to buy their CD’s or learn their songs. I am closest to that, with Butch Ross’
“I Like Singing Folk Songs”… it’s a good’un. Might actually learn it one day.
For the most part what gets airplay on popular radio flat leaves me cold. I don’t listen to top 40. Part of being an antique, I guess!
Still love Bob’s “Stars Tonight” and “Long Time Waiting”… why go further when you’ve got your own music growing in you!
Ellie Hjemmet says:
oops, the Acoustic Coffeehouse is where my SON works (not “song”)… slip of the finger…
Bob says:
Thanks for those kind words, Ellie. When I write a song, it has to work for me first. After that, maybe others will like it, maybe not. You have a keen appreciation for a wide range of good music, glad to be included in your list. There are sites on the internet for new music, but I confess that I don’t often exercise the patience to wade through what is out there to find pieces that really move me.
Patty says:
I remember the first time I heard you sing that Jim Croce song, Bob. You were singing it to me at the Banner Elk Cafe the night before I left for Florida when our long-distance relationship adventure was just beginning. Ellie might remember it too, since she was with us from the start.
I’m honored to be one of those people you really care about.
And, Ellie, I agree with what you said about Bob’s original music. Why look any further? It’s truly amazing!
Bob says:
I guess it’s kind of trite, but my original songs are like my children and I want people to think well of them. Thanks for the vote of confidence. And Patty, you get exposed to all kinds of songs in all of their Bob manifestations. I appreciate your patience in that. One thing that is very cool for me is that you have your own music in you and we share in a blended product.
Naomi says:
It is not at all trite of you to want people to think well of your music Father
That’s how it should be. Of course it should speak to you first, but it only makes sense that you would also want it to speak to others. I feel like that’s the desire of any artist in any medium.
I feel like I’ve felt this way about music my entire life. It has a power over the communication of emotion better than anything else I’ve found, with or without words (Some of the most moving songs I have heard are instrumentals). I don’t know what it is about it, but it’s true for everyone. Though it’s sometimes difficult to agree on what good music is, I have yet to encounter someone who didn’t think it existed. Music has a way of pulling whatever emotion to the surface and allowing the listener to really experience it, not just hear the words. I don’t even feel like it necessarily has to be coherent, because who really Feels coherently all the time. But there’s a way, I suppose some people just stumble onto it, of feeling in a way that can then be made uh, tangible. At least more tangible than before. The right combination of notes can give me chills, make me grin, make my eyes water out of nowhere, fill me with inspiration, bring back memories, bring up hopes, dreams, ideas– I don’t know what’s so different about writing a song (or hearing a song) and speaking. But it manages to connect the words you’re hearing to an entirely different level of feeling..
Good music has always given me chills. I feel like that’s a physical example of what I’m saying. It speaks in such a different way than words.
Bob says:
What a wonderful response! I particularly like your sentence “I don’t even feel like it necessarily has to be coherent, because who really FEELS coherently all the time.”
That’s perfect. I think of some of John Lennon’s songs to illustrate that point. I don’t know what they mean, but I think I feel every note and syllable.