Music is everywhere.
I think about music quite often, due to its incredible presence in the world and my own personal investment in it. Since childhood I have been largely surrounded by and drawn to music; my father even revealed to me a matter of years ago that as an infant he had prayed the ability of music over me. I thrive on the creativity of playing and writing on guitar, and not just for how sonically pleasing it is to the ear or how cool it looks to play a few riffs for a crowd, but for how personal music can be to myself and others. I find that there’s a mystery in how beautiful a song can sound and how it can even vibrantly color and influence a moment in time; music is extremely impressive in this way. Country artist Eric Church, in a song full of nostalgia and reminiscence, sings a cool observation in the line, “funny how a melody sounds like a memory” (“Springsteen,” 2011). It is funny, isn’t it? It’s awe-inspiring that a song can be so hooked on a personal memory that it can suddenly bring it back to mind decades later, and vice versa.
Following that thought, I think more than anything, I’m fascinated by the universality of music. It’s the only language that the whole world has in common; it’s the only language all people similarly speak and understand (when excluding lyrics). Furthermore, music is one of the oldest things to exist, beating the usual barriers of time, culture, and geography. As the ancient scholar Isidore of Seville puts it, “…And without music there can be no perfect knowledge, for there is nothing without it. For even the universe itself is said to have been put together with a certain harmony of sounds, and the very heavens revolve under the guidance of harmony.”
What’s more, most cultures throughout history have had a very high view of music and musicianship, whether for worship, as an art form, or simply for catharsis. “We can mention only one point (which experience confirms), namely, that next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise” (Martin Luther). Despite the pedestal, music has historically been a priceless resource available for all people, high and low. Music has been an outlet for the struggling, a form of praise for the believer, a luxury for the rich, common ground for the divergent, and a weekend release for the working man or community. Theologian and ecclesial reformist Martin Luther, as quoted above, deeply believed in music’s revealing and edifying power for us, most prevalently in connection with God. He states again about music in another writing, “first then, looking at music itself, you will find that from the beginning of the world it has been instilled and implanted in all creatures, individually and collectively. For nothing is without sound or harmony.” In layman’s terms Luther is practically telling us, “look around, and you will see music everywhere. It was given to us and woven into the very fabric of our existence.” I like to think of music as the poetry of sound, pleasing to the ear because it reflects a universal pattern which we see, feel, and hear throughout the natural world.
The Golden Ratio, also known as the divine proportion (or Fibonacci sequence), is a mathematical phenomenon found in geometry, art, and architecture. Leonardo Da Vinci was the first to realize that designs including the ratio are the most aesthetically pleasing to the human eye. Fascinatingly, music can also include the divine proportion; supposedly, much of Mozart’s compositional genius can be attributed to the fact that many of his famous pieces conform to it. The golden ratio was also used by Aristotle to explain his take on human virtue, but for the sake of our conversation, I find it important in that it contributes a strong example of music’s part in the universal pattern. We tend to celebrate music as an observation of real life, an avenue for truth. To take from Seville and Luther (quoted above), music was involved in creation, and is consequently discoverable in our intimate relationship with creation now. I can hear music when I sit and listen to the river go by, or the sound of the forest’s movement. I hear it in the song of the creatures at dawn and dusk. Humans most definitely are not the originators of it nor are we Earth’s sole musicians, but we have the gift of intentionally manifesting the sounds around us, attempting to craft them into melodies, and do so as perfectly as possible. From the reasoning stated thus far, it would seem that we muse most effectively by tuning into our present environment.
In a documentary called “Muscle Shoals,” the historical success of the renowned recording industry in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, is detailed. The focus of the film is on how this small, rural southern town found worldwide repute as a hit-song producing powerhouse. Interestingly enough, much of the reasoning given in the documentary for its success is in correlation with the town’s natural surroundings. Many of the locals interviewed during the film attribute the phenomenon to Native American roots and folklore concerning a local “singing” river, practically stating that Muscle Shoals’ success has as much to do with its location as anything else. Outside of the mysticism of the area’s tribal heritage, lots of interviewees, including artists who recorded there, link the success of Muscle Shoals’ recordings to the environment. To paraphrase Rick Hall — highly-successful producer and owner of FAME studios in Muscle Shoals — music often reflects the landscape and environment in which it is created. Therefore, it could be said that the creation surrounding the production of music is almost equally as important in shaping it as the creator(s). This could be an explanation for why the varying musical styles and genres of today’s age can be traced back to specific cultures and geographical regions. People of days past would have no other choice but to be enveloped in the circumstance of their natural surroundings, and what they observed through their senses inevitably would influence what they poured out in musical expression. It’s not so different now, except it doesn’t seem that we allow our natural surroundings to influence us quite so much, actually sitting long enough to take our present circumstances in and let it fill our creative tank with unique fuel for personal and honest melodies. We have reached new heights in transporting ourselves elsewhere, physically and mentally, either by moving machines or stationary screens. We do not often dwell or submerge ourselves in our placement nowadays. Maybe that’s all the supposed magic and mysticism of Muscle Shoals was, and why artists from all around the world made their pilgrimage to the little Alabama town; it was a place that embraced its quiet rural surroundings, its tradition, and lacked the distraction of a busy metropolis.
Music is everywhere. It’s in everything. I’d even say that a book detailing the history of music could almost just as well be considered a world history book. It’s why I can quote and talk about ancient philosophers, theologians, scholars, a mathematic formula, and a country artist in the same place to prove the same point — the soul-finding beauty of music runs deeply through our humanity. It holds a key place in our short existence. It is anchored in our reality, riding the frontier of life’s wild seas, at the helm pointing us homeward. Things are more connected than we notice or know to look for below the surface, and there is a golden thread running through it all, the seen and unseen. Much of what I try to do in my writing is take a closer look and urge my readers to do the same. I hope this helped you do so in terms of music, and in some fashion gave you a deeper appreciation for it. I hope this post urges you forth in discovery of more on the mystery and magic of music, including its creation and inspiration.