Friday, 9 May 2014

Maybe tomorrow. . .

This is my favourite Goldenhorse track.  It reminds me of summer, being with friends, road trips and beaches. It also reminds me of The Seekers with its particular charm, although Kirsten Morrell's vocals clearly show her opera influences, her first love that she has returned to.  I was the musical director for a school production of "For Today" which used this song as one of its musical numbers (amongst other Kiwi classics).

I really enjoy this song because its light breezy music match the intent of the lyrics.  The possibility of something new coming around the corner, can fill you with anxiety, but also trepidation and nervous energy.  The title of the song implies that there is hope in what tomorrow brings, even if we don't know what that is.

There's a story I know 
We all leave and let go
There is nothing to hold us

Knowing that at the end of the day, nothing really ever does hold us, but that we allow the confines of our own circumstances (if we choose to let it) dictate what we can and can't do.  Walking away from something or someone and leaving that behind, letting go of something or someone could be the release that you need.

In a moment of time
When the fruit becomes wine
And the thought becomes the memory

I often think about when things are converted from thoughts into memory. As there will definitely be some occasions when thoughts become actions.  I guess it could be about knowing when thoughts should be memories or actions.  Some actions may in turn create bad memories best left forgotten and words best left unsaid.  The only thing that seems to bind it altogether is the passage of time.

All of your sorrow
Maybe tomorrow
Will fade away in the air

The sorrows of today may fade in time, into the air.  But I guess this comes back to the beginning of the song when Kirsten sings about the story she knows about people - how we all leave and let go, there is nothing to hold us.  Those that go on before us, whether they wanted to or not, all left us and let go, and there is nothing to hold them to us except for those thoughts they shared, becoming memories.