Friday, September 25, 2009

Falling Through Musical Rabbit Holes

Back on September 9, I was tempted to write an article about the Beatles' strange White Album track Revolution 9 (I was going to title it "Numba Nine, Numba Nine, Numba Nine"). But since "9/9/09" has come and gone, I have to find a new excuse to write about this tight, upbeat melody. Just kidding. About the tight, upbeat melody, that is.

Revolution 9, a track that would more precisely be called a "collage of musical and audio images" instead of a song, represents more the solo abstract work that John Lennon had been doing with Yoko Ono at that time. The other Beatles reportedly opposed it being including on the White Album, but Lennon insisted on it. To my delight.

Revolution 9 is many things: sinister, mysterious, apocalyptic, conspiratorial (much of it is recorded backward, including the haunting "numba nine" rap which, when reversed, sounds like "turn me on dead man"), and sad. I appreciate all of that, but there is another element to this piece that I find myself looking for in other music: There are parts of Revolution 9 where I find myself falling into the musical equivalent of Alice in Wonderland's rabbit hole.

A musical rabbit hole, what is that? To me, it is a section within a piece where everything breaks down into chaos for a while. I've experienced this phenomenon listening to other songs as well. Here are a few:

Eight Miles High by the Byrds
Shapes of Things by the Yardbirds
Tomorrow Never Knows by the Beatles
Flaming by Pink Floyd
One of These Days by Pink Floyd
Echoes by Pink Floyd
The End by the Doors
When the Music's Over by the Doors
Sky Pilot (long version) by Eric Burdon & the Animals
Legend of a Mind by the Moody Blues
Dazed and Confused by Led Zeppelin
How Many More Times by Led Zeppelin
Roundabout by Yes
South Side of the Sky by Yes
Close to the Edge by Yes
The Gates of Delirium by Yes
Autobahn by Kraftwerk
Danse With Me George by Ambrosia
Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head by Sufjan Stevens

The trick with the sections of disorder in these songs (usually in their middle, but not always) is to somehow bring back some sense of order to the song, as a transformation brought about in large part by that chaotic period.

What is special about Revolution 9 is that the "rabbit hole" experience IS the body of the piece and periods of relative order are the exception rather than the rule. But for a period of time in the fall of 1972 (specifically the entire month of October), Revolution 9 (Paul, George and Ringo's objections notwithstanding) was the song that I listened to the most, often several times a day. And here I am, 37 years later, and still harboring fond thoughts of that wacky track. And still happily falling through musical rabbit holes.

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