Re: JP Sartre and his quest for music

Nicolas Bamberski (nib@frame.com)
Fri, 6 Oct 95 11:31:35 CDT


At 05:38 PM 10/5/95 -0400, Matthew Robert Chicoine wrote:
>Greetings to global rhythm souls. I wanted to relate something I wrote
>down yesterday that happened, not necessarily "acid jazz," more about
>music in general. I documented the event as follows:
>
>Wed. October 4, 1995 @ 6:30ish PM
>
> Sitting in a non-descript cafe on north campus <University of
>Michigan>, I struggled through JP Sartre's "Nausea". The novel got
>heavier with every page, weighing down on my mind with increasing
>intensity. What is this talk of "existence"? Is Sartre neurotic, a
>madman, or could anybody, including my own impressionable self, fall
>victim to the perpetual consciousness of nothing? I have believed it to
>be true and have myself gotten a suffocating glimpse of the Nausea Sartre
>speaks of.
> What grounds me in reality, often prone to paranoias and
>delusion? Music, of course! The only . . . force which can fill me with
>such inspiration, joy, purpose. Close my eyes and feel the music,
>listening beyond hearing, escaping the trivialities that pinch and
>pick at my head. Float above, well-up with ecstasy, tears forming at the
>corners of my eyes. How do I put these feelings into words? How do I go
>about making JPS understand, as he struggles to make me understand him?
> I come upon the last five pages. Ironically, Jamiroquai is piped
>into the previously silent cafe. My despair, my dwelling on JPs
>banterings are distracted momentarily. Words pass before my eyes, but my
>mind is paying homage to the ears.
> What's this? Sartre's last hour in his town of Bouville and he
>requests to hear music, jazz music no less. He listens, he ponders,
>he is relieved and the Nausea passes. He feels the music drifting
>somewhere beyond the condemnation of existence, embodying SOMETHING. What
>it is, he knows not, but ITS NOT NOTHING.
> The music changes in my dim cafe. The Police- SYNCHRONICITY . . .
><I'm more concerned with the theme of the song here than the music
>itself, if you didn't get it>
> JP and I ponder, touched, getting a glimpse of that amorphous,
>inexplicable SOMETHING.
> PP. 178 " 'That was the day, that was the hour, when it all started'"
> JP begins to understand . . .
>
>
>
>Apologies if this is long, if this does not seem appropriate, but I
>assume that we are all fascinated with the power of music or else we
>would not be here, right? Wanted to share with my fellow idealists this
>real life experience. Peace and don't lose your rhythm.
>
> BUBBLICIOUS
>

Brilliant. You have managed, through your prose, to expose the essence of
music (and, at a larger scale, arts) as well as its importance. I will keep
your words in mind for those countless occasions, those conversations in
which one wants to pay homage to the driving element of his/her life (in our
case, music) but ideas and thoughts come out too fast and too numerous and
end-up in a confusing result (of course, by that time, one's altered state
adds to the confusion *smile*).

I was in a little neighborhood bar, the Matchbox, last night with my friend
James Anthony and we proceeded to some heavy wine tasting (wow, those
California vineyards have finally reached maturity and the quality is now
excellent). Anyway, we got into a discussion that relates to your thoughts.
Basically we acknowledged our luck. We have total access to those additional
layers, let's call them arts, that surround the unavoidable materialistic
kernel of our existence. We added the notion of beautifulness to the notion
of efficiency. I witness and witnessed too many individuals who don't bother
to discover or acknowledge those layers, who are comfortable within the
above-mentioned kernel and are unknowingly missing out on most of what makes
the human a superior animal. It's hard to accept the fact that they are in
fact a majority. Hell, just cruise to the nearest suburb and observe
efficient, comfortable ugliness.

I don't have the ambition of doing anything about that, but I have wishes. I
wish more people could reach those mind-enhancing layers of appreciation and
creativity. Once one has reached one of them, one has reached all of them.
The gap is filled and the essence of life has been discovered. Music is the
first layer I reached, and I know there are tons more, and I am happy
because my life will flow on "everything" and not "nothing".

Maybe I sound confusing; sorry, english is my second language and my brain
is still bathing in fermented california grape. However, I feel like I might
sound pretentious but trust me, I'm very humble about all this.

What's with me today?!? :)

dj bambi - chicago
nib@frame.com
312-918-9087 for bookings/events info and anonymous
insults or love messages (it's a voice-mail)...
[Forever Souled @ the Shelter every friday nite]
[Mix-tapes @ gramaphone (chicago), solejunkies (chicago), badmood (orlando)]