October 24, 2007
Those of you readers who actually pay attention to this site know that I like to sing. Some of you may even give me the benefit of the doubt and assert that I sing well.
I do love to sing and I've often tried to quantify just why that is. Certainly it is gratifying to receive complements on one's singing ability, and I am fortunate to receive that feedback. But the motivation for singing goes deeper than mere affirmation. I don't know if this holds true for folks regardless of singing prowess, but for me singing just feels good.
There is something primal and therapeutic about letting that sound just rumble up through the body and out into the world. No matter how depressed or lonely or negative I'm feeling, if I start to sing it makes me feel better.
Back in my college days, where I was constantly lonely and disconnected, I found an isolated rock outcropping on the edge of campus where I would go late at night and sing and sing for what seemed like hours. It was cathartic.
Certainly listening to music is pleasant, and certain songs can give me a lift when I hear them, but when I'm actually vocalizing, it's like endorphins are released and my mood is altered. Perhaps is has to do with the basic human need for expression. Humankind has always been a creative species, making art and structures and music and dance. But not everyone is creative. Some create and some appreciate that creation. I wonder if there is a difference between those who are content to witness art as opposed to those who feel stifled if they are not a part of it.
For me, there is nothing more fulfilling than spending a night at a piano bar belting out song after song. I get antsy or impatient if a song is played that I don't know or am not fond of. I remember back in college that I wrote a paper on a story by Edgar Allan Poe called "Man of the Crowd" (I think that was the title). It was about an old man who wanders endlessly through crowds of people, seeming to feed off their energy, and when the hour grows late and the crowds die down, or he wanders into an area without people, he grows frantic. Sometimes I feel that way about singing.
I love living in the City and don't miss having a car much, except for when I would be on a drive and a song would come on the radio, or I'd pop a CD in, and I could just wale on that song with no one around to hear me. You can't do that on the subway. Well you can but you risk arrest, or people handing you spare change. And in my apartment, I can't help worrying that the neighbors can hear and I'm disturbing them.
So unless I'm in a show - like I am now, thank goodness - or visiting one of the few remaining piano bars in the City, I don't have much outlet for my singing jones.
Just this morning I was walking to work, feeling a bit blue as I have been these last few months, and listening to my iPod. When I walked into the building off the street, I took the stairwell instead of the elevator and I started to quietly sing along, and I felt a little better.
And as long as that private moment lasted, life was a little better than before.
Labels: music, musings, singing, therapy
Posted by: David @ 
Sounds like the ticket.
I like to too. But only when I'm alone. My favorite pick me up tune to sing to myself is "Pennies from Heaven."
So if I happen to stumble into the Monster one night (is that still there) would you be crooning showtunes? :D
Anyway, especially in NY, cherish those private moments.
Of course, also in NY, there plenty of people who happily sing at the top of their lungs walking down the street. You might not stick out much if you decided to join in.
I sing to myself, but know in my heart that I am as tone deaf as possible without actually being deaf.
You can hum to yourself more loudly than you would think before anyone hears you. This is especially true if you live somewhere with a lot of background noise.
I find that if I'm in a place with especially cool acoustics, I'm often unable to resist getting a little more audible. People can think I'm crazy if they want: there are advantages to being thought crazy.
I also find that the music in question depends highly on the context. I found recently that I chanted a lot when I was in museums with a lot of religious art.
Oh my god. I just love to sing out loud. I am not all that good and I know it. I have sung in a chorus in a high school play, but I was an alto and one of only three. They were desperate. But god I love to sing. I do it in my Jeep. Sigh. I hear ya, David. And I feel for you. You might need to buy a car just to sing in. I hear gas in kind of expensive these days though.