APL has a way of hitting you right in the gut (or 'solar plexus', as we used to say when I was young) when you least expect it...with his music, of course. I'm talking now about '8th St. Mother's House' from the
Houses album.
While it sounds like just a jaunty, playful little tune about nothing much at all, this is actually one of Adam's most profound compositions. (I think I keep saying that about every song!)
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Preacher for the Week at Topsail Beach, 1987 |
This song is about time, and memories, and life passing. It feels like it's about me at age 60, looking back at all the life I've lived (and with much less in front of me than behind me). When I'm standing at my computer, scanning boxes of our pictures from decades past, these lyrics are speaking directly to me: "Remember it well, remember it well. But the older that you are, the more those memories carve your life away."
The word 'poignant' comes to mind. This is definitely a poignant song, as in 'evoking a keen sense of emotion, especially sadness.' But it's not
just sadness, because with memories there is (or should be) gratitude and pleasure as well. Hopefully, that's what memories do for us. But I'll admit that it's a mixture for me these days.
Writing the other day on this blog about the Castle, built by Hedgie and Tom Dean and the scene of many of our best family memories, was a poignant moment for me, because it was sold some years ago and is no longer in the family. It's just a memory now.
I remember the chain
That locked up the front door
And blocked the bay-front window.
I remember the feeling that
a memory is all I'd have.
Same thing with my family home in Pennsylvania where I was raised: sold (actually, under contract as I write), gone now, only a memory, along with most everything else from that time of my life, including most of the people.
But that's our life as mortals, is it not. Each moment we live in the present quickly becomes only a memory, like the grains of sand passing through the hour glass, going from the top to the bottom. But unlike a physical hourglass, we can't turn our lives over and start it running again.
Perhaps here's the lesson I would take from '8th St. Mother's House': Cherish the moments as you live them, and then cherish the memories you make of those moments.
And also take lots of pictures!!
Lyrics:
I remember it well,
the cat on the front porch of your 8th st. mother's house.
You gave me the front door, a sip of you lemonade.
You said it was homemade. No, I saw the powder there.
But I didn't care.
All the old days, cause the current age to race away.
I remember it well:
The old grand piano, that played through the bay-front window.
The blue-satin pillow, that held your hair so well.
Your Grandmother Willow, that never would stand still.
All the old days, cause the current age to race away.
Remember it well, Remember it well
But the older that you are,
the more those memories carve your life away.
I remember the chain
That locked up the front door
And blocked the bay-front window.
I remember the feeling that
a memory is all I'd have.
As though I was peeling towards,
The core of life that's so sad
It's so sad.
That all the old days, cause the current age to race away.
All the old days, cause the current age
The older that you are,
the more those memories carve your life away.