<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Music on vnykmshr</title><link>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/tags/music/</link><description>Recent content in Music on vnykmshr</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 10 Apr 2011 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/tags/music/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Tangled Up in Blue</title><link>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/tangled-up-in-blue/</link><pubDate>Sun, 10 Apr 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/tangled-up-in-blue/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Dylan does something with perspective that nobody else has figured out. First person becomes third person mid-verse. The timeline folds. You&amp;rsquo;re never sure who&amp;rsquo;s talking, and it doesn&amp;rsquo;t matter, because the feeling is consistent even when the narrator isn&amp;rsquo;t.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He said it himself &amp;ndash; he was trying to deal with the concept of time, and the way characters shift between first and third person. &amp;ldquo;But as you look at the whole thing it really doesn&amp;rsquo;t matter.&amp;rdquo; That&amp;rsquo;s the line that made me pay attention differently. Most songwriters build a story. Dylan builds a space and lets you wander through it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Naagin</title><link>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/naagin/</link><pubDate>Mon, 28 Mar 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/naagin/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The problem with most Indian rock is that it&amp;rsquo;s rock that happens to be played by Indians. Western structures, Western tone, maybe a tabla dropped in for colour. Fusion as a costume.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Decibel&amp;rsquo;s &amp;ldquo;Naagin&amp;rdquo; is something else. It sounds like it grew out of this soil. The Lady Cobra &amp;ndash; pulled straight from mythology, not as decoration but as the spine of the song. The riff has weight. The vocal has bite. It doesn&amp;rsquo;t ask permission to be Indian and it doesn&amp;rsquo;t perform Indian-ness for a Western ear. It just is.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fast Car</title><link>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/fast-car/</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.vnykmshr.com/writing/fast-car/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Fast Car&amp;rdquo; landed on me this week, and it won&amp;rsquo;t leave.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;d heard it before &amp;ndash; everyone has. But there&amp;rsquo;s a difference between hearing it and having it land. Nothing&amp;rsquo;s wrong. Nothing concrete has changed. But the song has been playing in my head for days, and its sentence keeps finding me: &lt;em&gt;you gotta make a decision, you leave tonight or you live and die this way&lt;/em&gt;. I don&amp;rsquo;t have a decision to make. Not yet. The song knows something I don&amp;rsquo;t.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>