9.28.2017

Consuming Art ft. Matty Healy's Wisdom

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While hunting for published interviews of my favorite, absolutely brilliant indie music icon Matty Healy, who is the frontman of The 1975 (an English rock band), I came across an interview the band gave to The Big Issue. Their interview was intimate & artistically nonchalant. But one part stood out so vibrantly, it has thus stayed with me.
I remember I sat in a park with a girl for about two hours talking with her about her parents breaking up. Now I realize my responsibility ends with my music.

When I first listened to The 1975's song Somebody Else, I too wanted Matty Healy to give me a customized solution for my issues since his songs carved a sensible way to escape, to understanding that something more substantial than ache existed; without ever realizing how Matty Healy could only give me a song, the solution was never in his pocket. There were millions of us, each interpreting Somebody Else (and The 1975's many other songs) in our own ways. His responsibility did end with his music. What came next, was only an unpredictable interpretation from his audience that was way beyond an artist’s control.
This is the start, of how it all ends (Yellow Flicker Beats, Lorde)
Suppose there is no song left in this world except the one you last listened to. Suppose the song is only meant to be listened once and forgotten forever. Suppose there is no song at all. 

When it comes to the consumption of art in any form, it is hard to determine how the consumer is going to treat it; whether with love, or disdain, or utmost tenderness. There is no certain or established way. One thing, despite everything, is mildly comforting: the original sentiments would always belong to an artist’s creation and not with the artist solely.

Somebody Else will perpetually be an anthem of heartbreak for me. In the official video, Healy falls off a skateboard and breaks his nose, there is also blood. In those few gore-cladded minutes, I learned how not to ride a skateboard and a few other things. In my video player, Healy falls off every single time I replay it, every single time there is blood oozing out of his nose, every single time I know for sure how some melodies are only meant to tear your heart into hideous little pieces.

Perhaps in next ten years, a new band would emerge with a better vision of cinematic ache and half of us will only remember Somebody Else as a fragment of memory and Healy as the anarchist who once started a fire of unclassified emotions. But like every damn end, we are ought to forget and move ahead.

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