Tag Archives: musing

“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?

“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?

“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.