As I stepped out the double doors, the cold rush of fresh air reminded me that it was indeed February. I coughed briefly, adjusting to the temperature. Now with my iPod in hand, I had the task of picking today’s album for the soundtrack to my (somewhat routine) afternoon walk. At somewhere between 45-50 blocks, I needed something with duration, something with legs.
Scrolling through the menus, I saw nothing that jumped out at me, so I simply chose the last album that I had put onto my shiny black gadget of gluttony: Talib Kweli’s “Right About Now” album. Having not heard it all the way through yet, I hit play and started on my way.
As I wandered the streets of downtown Louisville, I hit a stride. I was enjoying the melding of the gritty music, the frosty air and the concrete surroundings. It felt scripted. With Talib’s lyrics passing through my ears, I stared at the architecture, the people going about their day. Everything was routine, syncopated. And beautiful.
Like a cat fascinated with a simple string, I began mentally batting at this idea of beauty. After all, I had little else to do or think about during the hour. Letting my mind wander, I was immediately reminded of the visual map that I had seen earlier in the day, of one designer’s representation of music history by means of the London Underground map. Even more specifically, what stuck out to me was the inclusion of DJ Shadow and RZA as their own separate line. Among entire genres (represented as train lines), Shadow and the Wu-Tang’s RZA had their own entire transfer route. It makes sense intitially, as both work effortlessly to push the boundaries of hip hop…at least well beyond the radio norm. But again, pulling the string a bit more, I wondered why exactly, of two musical equals, I strongly pick one over the other.
Passing the courthouse, I began to sort it out. I think that I see music as a struggle to display the beautiful. Actually, I’m sure deep down I view all art that way. But musically, I’m more drawn to artists and albums that highlight, emphasize and generally dwell upon the mystery of beauty. Shadow’s work, to me, is just that. It’s the perfect marriage of grimey, raw reality with ethereal beauty. Like standing in a misty fog late at night—but surrounded by abanoned buildings as opposed to idyllic pastures or rolling hills. RZAs work, on the other hand leaves me feeling slightly anxious or bitter somehow. I cannot begin to explain why, but the emotions that are manipulated by RZAs art do not leave me feeling bettered. In fact they tend to leave me more negative than contemplative.
Consciously, I know that there is a distinct difference between the works of both artists, as RZA is surely not trying to do what Shadow does (or vice versa). Two different men articulating different things. But the oddity of my fascination with one and passivity to the other (especially when so closely linked stylistically) leaves me comfortably curious. Are we naturally drawn to beauty? Is it a cultural thing? Are other cultures naturally drawn to pain instead?
Perhaps something for me to noodle about on today’s walk. Sometimes it’s good to think about simple things.
