I’ve been thinking about mythology and folk music and how intertwined they really are.
Define folk music, you say. Yes, that’s reasonable. My definition of folk music is anything that actually about someone’s life: love, work, dreams, kids, home, family, connectedness to others, to nature, to whatever passes for God, loss, pain, fear, pride, trauma, anger, righteous anger, death, and driving. Transportation from one place to another is a huge part of the human experience. How does mythology fit into that?
Gods were created to help explain terrifying, mysterious, unexplainable things.
“Why did the mountain just explode?” Answer: we must have done something bad.
“Who the hell is eating the sun right now?” Answer: we must have done something bad.
“What’s with the flashing lights and booming sounds and all this wind and the horizontal rain?” Answer: we must have done something bad.
Gods were created to attribute explainable human behavior to unexplainable natural events. Gods, much like natural disasters, happen to people.
Think about a really nasty thunderstorm, back before anybody really knew what that was. Maybe throw in a tornado. So you have Og and Ula and their children Oof and Ugh and StopIt watching out the cave opening as the forest is attacked by a giant whirling column of wind, while thunder crashes and lightning flashes and rain slices horizontal. What do they tell the kids? “Sky God and Forest God are having a fight,” says Ula. “What about?” asks Oof. “Knowing them, a dryad,” responds Og, rolling his eyes. StopIt pipes up and says, “Looks like Forest God just got his ass handed to him.” Ula nods and says, “Verily.” And a myth is born.
Okay, maybe it’s a little more complicated than that. Mmm, probably not much, though. Don’t overthink it.
What do you do when stuff doesn’t make sense? When coincidence is spooky? When things go bump in the night?
And what does that have to do with folk music? Well, folk music is about life. Doesn’t matter what genre it is: rock’n’roll, pop, R&B, rap, jazz, blues, singer-songwriter, bluegrass, old-timey, “traditional,” Okay, yes, the twang kind, too (blech). If it’s a story about somebody’s life, it’s a folk song. If it’s a story about surviving a storm, it’s a folk song. If it’s about driving through a storm, it’s a folk song (and either me or BeJae Fleming probably wrote it). If it’s about personal love, loss, pain, angst, or driving, it’s a folk song. Trust me on this.
Mythology is about explaining the unexplainable so there are …options and solutions that become apparent. Codifying those stories and options and ideas into songs and poems helps people remember why certain sometimes nonsensical things have to be done – or not done – so we don’t draw unwanted divine attention to ourselves.
I think this is why contemporary folk music is also so deeply spiritual, because we know now why there are volcanos and thunderstorms and eclipses, so we don’t really need gods to explain that stuff anymore – but what we do need is connection to the Source behind the gods, connection to Everything, and folk music gets that.
And the next step, the obvious thing, is to start using folk music to create the world we want again. When you make up songs about your life, write the ending you want. Don’t settle for whatever is being handed to you by a world gone utterly mad. Write then ending you want, and then focus toward it. Think of it like a spell. It involves rhythm, rhyme, melody. It uses specific words chosen to express an idea or a desire very specifically (or it should do; songwriters who don’t pay attention to the flavor of their words might create an apocalypse). Spells often require the use of herbs, symbols, and newts. Well, that can be the bass player (often into herbs), the drummer (who always carries a good selection of cymbals); and the lead guitar player after one too many [insert ego-driven transgression of your choice here].
In all seriousness, Music = Magic in very intimate and utterly real ways. You don’t have to be a songwriter to make up songs. You can sing while you do dishes, while you’re driving, in the shower, in the garden, it doesn’t matter. In the beginning was the Word. Was it “Abracadabra?” Was it “Check, one two, check test?” Was it “Once upon a time?” Sing it and make it so.