Day 22: Ashes – The Belle Brigade
Right now, you probably want to go back to the way things used to be–you know, like six weeks ago. I know I do. It’s true when they say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and we’re all feeling that right now. We miss our friends, our favorite places and in some cases, our families (I live alone, which a few months ago felt like a blessing but now is starting to feel like solitary confinement.)
The duo Belle Brigade touches on this in their song “Ashes,” which alludes to a relationship imploding, but the lyrics implore that maybe, just maybe, they can go back to what they used to be. They were stoking a fire, but the fire burned away after awhile
You light the fire
But you don’t keep it alive
It cools down
And you get tired
And the red turns to white
They’re talking about how fiery, passionate relationships can fizzle out, especially if there’s all passion and no depth. You can feed a fire really quickly with some lighter fluid or even gasoline, but it doesn’t keep the fire alive. You have to continue feeding it firewood, or else it will just flare or die down. What you have left are ashes, which are no use to anyone.
And the ashes in the air
Can be collected and confined
To the shape we used to make
But the weight is gone
You can’t really turn ashes into a fire. They’ve been used up already, so what you have left isn’t the same. It’s similar to how we’re feeling now. We’re surrounded by the ashes of what used to be our lives. When we begin to reconstruct, things simply aren’t going to be the same. Maybe we shouldn’t try to make them exactly the same. Of course, it will be good to go back to normal, but let’s move forward with what we’ve learned now.
Day 23: Rox in the Box – The Decemberists
I’ve covered a few Decemberists songs this time around, but it’s probably because they’re just a) so good, and b) so original. I especially love their 2011 album “The King is Dead,” which first introduced me to their folksy, bluegrass sound. “Rox in the Box” is a song about gold mining in its literal terms. Just look at the introductory verse:
Put your rocks in the box
Get the water right down to your socks
This bulkhead’s built of fallen brother and bone
In the late 1800s into the 1900s, gold mining was the “in” thing. People went west to seek their fortune, and a handful were successful. However, it was a lot of hard work, and a lot of people died–either on the journey, or at the destination. Mining itself is a dangerous feat. You’re deep below the ground, where there’s little air and little light. If a cave falls in, it’s bad news for everyone.
This song is a reminder of mortality. It’s a scary thing to think about, but it’s true–death comes for us all eventually. Take a look at the chorus:
And it’s one, two, three
On the wrong side of the lee
What were you meant for?
What were you meant for?
And it’s seven, eight, nine
You get your shovel back in line
And if you ever make it to ten, you’ll never make it again
It highlights the mundane work of a miner, the gritty, tough work they endure every day. They could go down seven, eight, nine times into the mine–very few make it to ten. That’s how real death is for them down there. As the second verse states:
And you won’t make a dime
On this gray granite mountain mine
Of dirt you’re made and to dirt you will return
So while we’re living here
Let’s get this little one thing clear
There’s plenty of men to die, you don’t jump your turn
There are plenty of foolhardy men who are willing to sacrifice their lives for gold or other riches. To these men, mortality is real. You may say that in our current situation, mortality is real for us too. It makes us uncomfortable, but it’s a memento mori–a reminder that we are dust, and to dust we will return.
Audrey D. DeBoer 