“Tell Me Can You Hear Me Now.”

This was my last back to back to back listen. The last song on Cowboy Carter was “Amen.” It is precisely what I felt like saying at the end of it, too as an angelic chorus signed off sweetly singing “Amen.”

Beyonce asks us to tell her we can hear her. It is a definitive yes and can I have more, please? But I know she is not asking those who are already fans or beliefs most likely align with hers, she is asking everyone. Not begging. But telling them, I spoke, I shouted, I sang, I whispered and I growled on these tracks. Did you hear me? I invited Linda Martell, Willie Nelson, Shaboozey, Willie Jones, Dolly Parton, and a host of others, honored Mr. Chuck Berry and invoked the spirit of Ms. Tina Turner thee Legend. Did you hear me? I cracked your heart open with my ballads, turned you on and made you shake and sweat. Did you hear me? I didn’t stick to my lane. Did you hear me? I called out your hypocrisy and rejection. Tell. Me. You. Can. Hear. Me.

I did, girl. I heard you.

And your voice asked me to give you twenty-seven days.

Amen.

“Look at that horse. Look at that horse. Look at that horse.”

I gave my first listen of “Sweet Honey Buckin” from Cowboy Carter while walking by myself today. I had to stop myself from screaming the lyrics as not to offend those nearby. I may not have been blessed with pipes but God knows he gave me the joy and the urge to express when a song hits just right. And this one does!

I saved my back to back to back listens for this evening after my weekly creative cluster meeting where we discuss “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron. We were making zines and maybe just knowing the sonic trance I was about to be under spurred me to make one called where to find joy.

During my listens, I was reminded how hypnotic the song is from the romantic swell of the Patsy Cline “I fall to pieces” tribute to the sexy, raw Honey middle to the defiantly confident Buckin ending. I probably have confused my husband more times than he can count by roaming around the house demanding “Look at that horse. Look at that horse. Look at that horse “

And I love it.

Music should stay with us, claim a piece of our consciousness as we fall in like and then perhaps, in love with it. Paying closer attention to the lyrics today allowed me to also realize she is calling out the industry singing about promises they can’t keep, referring to hissing snakes and shrugging off her Album of the Year snub by not “stunnin them” and going back to “fuck up the pen.”

She certainly did with her pen and her production. It was a call to action to do the same. Honor your roots, keep defying genre if you choose and carry that confidence everywhere with you.

“she got that whoa there”

Today was “Tyrant” from Cowboy Carter. I have heard it many times before. While listening each day for these musings, I try to divorce the part of my mind that is searching for the exact meaning, the story she is trying to tell. I want to feel it and write from there. Today, reading the lyrics had me wondering repeatedly who she was singing about? Herself? A shoot-em-up, heartbreaking supermodel, cowgirl fantasized version of herself who loves ’em and leaves ’em? Is that who she envies or is that fantasy she sometimes longs to be?

These questions made me wonder how often we live in our fantasies. I know I have my moments when even some of these fantasies are reduced to imagining what I could have said differently in an argument or maybe a compliment I could have paid a complete stranger and the smile that may have spread across their face as they thanked me. Of course, my fantasies can be much wilder and almost inconceivable. Maybe it’s best I was not gifted with a voice to sing about those.

I also found myself thinking about how she was envious of the coldness of this tyrant. I am sure many of us would live life differently or perhaps more boldly if we didn’t think about how our actions would affect others. Or if we just lived on a whim or were ruled by our rogue impulses.

It can be a burden to care but also a necessity which begs the question when can we let our inner tyrant out?

“I ‘ve been waiting my whole life.” and “This the real you. “

Three listens of “II Hands II Heaven” on Cowboy Carter. I would have thought after “Riverdance” that I would have continued my thoughts about my own relationship but the relationship that kept coming up was the one I am having with myself. I understand Beyonce is very much singing gorgeously about her husband. But I keep getting the feeling, even as in love as I am, the one I have been waiting for is me.

Each step forward in my health, my writing, my willingness to speak up for myself unveils the woman I was meant to be.

The real me.

I found myself resonating with “ten thousand steps towards the time of your life” with every repeat of the song. Since I was 23, I have had the feeling I was meant for something greater. I remember sitting on the couch at my parents’ old home and telling my mother that. I didn’t think I was going to change the world but I knew my whole life wouldn’t be centered around a cubicle and I would need an outlet. And for years (especially when I would find myself in those environments) and denying how much I wanted to call myself a writer, I saw the people who enjoyed this work as zombies which is unfair. They were trying to make a living. Not unlike me. But some of them could barely part from their cubicle to eat when there was a lovely walking path outside and did not take their paltry fifteen minute breaks. I was devastated for them even though they were probably numb to it. I still don’t know what that “grand” thing is but I am willing to find out.

Like the song says “Only God knows why though.”

When I meet the most realized version of myself, I want to feel like I “partied in Venus and woke up in Mars.” What’s occuring to me right now as I am writing this, is since growth, as long as you seek it, is neverending, some moment of finality may never come but it won’t stop the undeniable bursts of joy and recognition along the way.

The mystery of this life and how we love ourselves and others can be written and sung about for milennia on end and we will always find new ways to treasure and immortalize it.

I am filled with gratitude and happily throw up two hands to heaven as I am privileged to read and hear so much of it.

“Ain’t That The Scary Thing?”

It is a scary thing—what we go through as we fall in love and throughout the duration of the relationship. That is what stayed with me throughout three listens, back to back to back of “Riverdance” from Cowboy Carter. Her initial reaction to her husband reminded of being thunderstruck and she wrote it down! I couldn’t help feel a bit envious of that. I wish I had written down my first encounter with my husband. I may not remember our entire conversation or everything he wore but I do remember his our first meeting made me feel.

I have written before that I may not have experienced love at first sight whatever that is supposed to mean but I did know it felt right and I knew could be myself. So not taking leave of my senses as she was but a crumbling of my well-guarded heart was already underway.

I do understand because I can be myself without apology giving him everything—my thunderstorm and second chances. Hurricane Kristina has entered the room a few more times than I would care to admit and I have had to slow down to give him grace and forgiveness. We never would have made it if we didn’t. We never would have continued to choose each other.

It was running through a river—rough, sometimes deceptively calm, sometimes as peaceful as it seems. I guess all of us have to decide who we want to roll with, who we want to run with and who we want to dance with.

“She’s a Whole Lotta Woman.”

It was four listens today of “Desert Eagle.” I wish it was longer because it is only a little over a minute. It is a funky tease of a song but it made me want to find the nearest dance class that uses a chair as part of a sexy routine. For the first time, I Googled the title of a song on this album. I did not understand the reference which isn’t the first time while listening to Cowboy Carter but I chose to forgo searching before this. I wasn’t surprised to learn it’s a powerful gun that may not be the most effective of them all but can be described as “large and unwielding.” Maybe like the woman in the song.

I had to confront some prudeness while listening. I don’t tend to listen to a whole lot of anything that refer to “cream in the middle.” I shock myself with my discomfort. I have danced to, rapped to, sang to lyrics like that for years but I don’t usually read the words. I am usually singing along, almost absentmindedly, and riding the beat. But she is an empowered woman who has sex. Enjoys sex. Enjoys turning her partner on. Enjoys using her gifts to tell him she enjoys turning him on. Wants other people to feel the same if they choose.

To own it.

If it’s mine, why shouldn’t I?

If it belongs to you, why shouldn’t you?

“I stayed away from you too long.”

I have one more week to go of Cowboy Carter musings. I don’t regret a single second of devoting my time to these listens. It has brought back the joy of yesteryear—cracking open the CD, slipping the book from the plastic and singing along to the lyrics, cozied up in my room.

Today was the “Oh Louisiana” interlude by Chuck Berry. I wanted to listen to the whole song but what was presented was 53 seconds. Just enough for a taste and maybe just enough to tickle the curiosity of the listener to discover or revisit Chuck Berry’s discography. I understand Beyonce has made references to her Louisiana heritage on her mother’s side in her music. I love she is proud of her heritage and she took the time to tip her hat to Mr. Berry. It is just more proof she is honoring the true kings and queens of American music.

Maybe we as listeners have stayed away too long from our families, from the places we have hailed from, from who we truly are and it just may be time to come home.

“Whole Lotta Red in that White and Blue”

As I was listening to “Ya Ya” from Cowboy Carter and expecting to want to swim, twerk and do my best Tina impression, I looked down at my phone which I tend not to do during these listens.

And I saw red because the American legacy of slave catching that has morphed into the police force murdered yet another Black man, begging for his life.

“I can’t breathe.”

Six minutes of unresponsiveness before attempting CPR.

Is any of this sounding familiar? How many times can we ring this alarm?!

Yes, Beyonce, you are right..a “whole lotta red in that white and blue.”

I wanted joy for today.

And maybe I should be defiant. Give it one more listen and dance in that man’s honor.

I will let you know tomorrow if I try but for now, I will rest.

And I won’t watch the video.

I will rest.

“Yes, indeed.”

Today’s back to back to back listen was “The Linda Martell Show” on Cowboy Carter. Although this intro was right under 30 seconds, what struck me was the gleeful voice of Ms. Martell, over the roar and claps of an audience. It reminded me of the adoration and acceptance Ms. Martell should have received as a country artist decades ago instead of the vitriol and the closed doors. She is the first Black woman to perform solo at the Grand Ole Opry. I read an article about the shunning and how it forced her out of the spotlight. What’s sad is that all these years later I have heard Black female country artist still struggle for the recognition and fame. Although the landscape is changing, the process has been slow. I am grateful the women singing background on “Blackbird” won’t have to wait for so long for the world to know their names.

Thank you, Ms. Martell. I am sorry you had to wait so long.

I am proud to know your name.

“My soul keeps reminding me that we’re forever young.”

I listened to “Flamenco” from Cowboy Carter today. Three listens. Back to back to back. I am attached to writing these muses. I am already starting to think about poetry, albums and fiction I want to write about here. It’s inspiring to let the art of others put you on a new path. It’s the wonder of possibility.

But back to “Flamenco”, I heard a cry for help or a yearning to send a message to someone who may already be lost. Maybe the person who is already lost or fading away is her or the type of fan she always thought she would have. That is up to her to tell her fans if she so chooses. When anyone is singing they are in need of help right now, I want to know all of the things. Why? How?

Where can I fit in if I am the piece of the puzzle you are looking for?

The lyrics about her soul reminding her that we’re forever young brought back a random memory. My father and I were on a long walk several years ago, probably over a decade. He told me that when he looks in the mirror, it doesn’t match what he sees in his mind. That the boy or man he was in his teens or twenties didn’t seem so far away. I was too young to fully get it but I do now. I remember who I was 20 years ago. The things I laughed at, hugging my friends, goofing off with my sister, conversations I had with my brother. My perception of what was is strong but who knows how accurate and that doesn’t even matter. It is within me. She is within me. No need to reclaim it.

We are traveling this journey with our past, present and future right about now.