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"Our music in the early '80s, it might have been ecstatic, but it wasn't really sexy, was it? Now we're sexy and ecstatic." -- Bono, 2001 |
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"Our music in the early '80s, it might have been ecstatic, but it wasn't really sexy, was it? Now we're sexy and ecstatic." -- Bono, 2001 |
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Like a Song: Bass Trap
@U2,
March 24, 2010
[Ed. note: This is the 44th in a series of personal essays by the @U2 staff about songs and/or albums that have had great meaning or impact in our lives.]
The older I get, the more I realize that making sense out of chaos is a part of the human condition. The yearning for simplicity and the desire to be at peace with wherever you are at are the two profound truths that have been resonating with me. As I watch my two young children grow out of the baby stage and enter full-blown toddlerhood, I have found that for all that goes on around me, the joy they have at experiencing the most mundane things is what really matters. However, the responsibilities of adulthood constantly bang and clatter, drowning out that joy at every opportunity that comes. As I watch my daughter napping in her swing, I am handling a dozen other things in a feeble and futile attempt to keep up with housework, paying bills, calling people back, and saving my son from himself as he attempts to fly like Superman off the couch. My life isn't any different from any other overachieving stay-at-home mom who tries to do it all. I want to escape back to that time when just sitting in a swing and napping was the best thing in the whole wide world; where when you wake up, someone's offering warm milk and gentle hugs. There's no worry about mailing the bills, cooking dinner, or even that crazy older brother jumping off the couch. It's about fulfilling the most basic of needs in as simplistic of a way as possible. Fortunately, I can find that escape when I close my eyes and listen to "Bass Trap." On days where I can only sneak a short break, there's the 3:33 version on the Best Of 1980-1990 compilation. (Oh the irony: "3:33 as the numbers fell off the clock face" – but I digress.) When I really want to indulge, I will pop on the 5:17 full version from The Unforgettable Fire 12" single. Some people escape with a good cup of coffee and biscuits, others take a soaking bath. For me, it's finding that peace in a song. When the opening sounds come streaming through my headphones, I close my eyes and picture myself just floating around in my mother's belly. The warm echoes and atmospheric progression of the guitar notes comfort me like very little else. I like the fact that I can just zone and let the melody take me on a journey where I'm not distracted by things like lyrics. For those few minutes I can collect my thoughts, refocus my energy, and most importantly, appreciate this somewhat hidden gem in U2's back catalog so my inner U2 fan can be reconnected. It reminds me of that time when I first discovered U2 and I didn't have all of the responsibilities I do now. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my life experiences for anything as it's a part of what being alive is all about. Life is about ebbs and flows, much like "Bass Trap" as the musical layers build and fade. There's also a playfulness within the song that teases you into thinking the melody is going one way but it doesn't. I enjoy the ability to get caught up in it on so many different levels, and depending on the day, I can take something different out of the song. For a "throwaway b-side," the listener can absorb so much. Come to think of it, bass traps are indeed low frequency sound absorbers. As with everything else in life, the song ends and the headphones have to come off as there are things to tend to. By this point, my son's realized that the couch isn't tall enough to handle his ability to leap tall things, my daughter's dropped her milk bottle, and what's spilled on the floor isn't worth crying over. The phone rings again and suddenly those hands are back on the clock face ticking away as the bang and the clatter of the day gets cranked up to 11. Life begins moving again at breakneck speed and I'm once again that overachieving mom who tries to do it all. Tomorrow, I get my "Bass Trap" break and I get to forget about it all over again -- even if it is only for 3:33. © @U2/Lawrence, 2010.
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