"A rough day. An unsettling experience. A traumatic break-up. Conventional
wisdom says, "Take a deep breath." But it really isn't about the inhaling--in fact, when tension
mounts, people sometimes inadvertently hold their breath without realizing it.. No, what truly
helps comes after the deep breath. It's the letting go. Release.
Dictionaries define Release many ways, but its essence is emancipation,
setting free from confinement. Music, in addition to its effect on the
savage beast, is an intense Release for us humans. Listening to music,
dancing to it, singing along, whether in the shower or in a packed arena.
And, of course, writing and playing music is tremendously liberating,
bringing that internal voice to life--but playing those songs at home alone
or for small audiences in a dingy club is more like taking a deep breath.
Music as Release begins in adolescence when it defines us as we use it to
define ourselves. There's the pure, joyous ebullience of "Can't Buy Me Love"
or "I'm Down." And there's the more raucous edge, the soul-searching yet
defiant music, Quadrophenia's "The Real Me" or "Sea and Sand."
Older now, and suddenly life is not just about the self, but about the self
in relation to others, particularly the self in and out of relationships.
Sure, some music still prompts innocent giddiness or stokes the flames, but
there's more often a reflectiveness now, a hint of melancholy, contemplation
about coping--with life, with relationships. A chance, perhaps, for sizing
up all the dreams and plans seemingly wasted.
And when you Release, it's like the sun in the morning light when the fever
has broken. Even during the worst of times, that Release brings the inner
knowledge that this emotional turmoil will someday be behind you, something
you shall survive and even learn from. And after a while you'll recall how
to smile, releasing yourself from fear.
Life begins today."