The power of music, whether joyous or cathartic, must steal on one unawares, come spontaneously as a blessing or a grace… 

(Oliver Sacks, p. 299, Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain)

I have satellite radio in my car.

Siriusly.

When I purchased my new Subaru last summer, the availability of this add-on was just too enticing to pass up. So, now, I almost always have my radio tuned to satellite rather than listening to FM, AM, CD or my iPod. Sirius Channel 6, devoted to tunes of the 60s, is where my dial is typically set.

Last week, while driving off-campus for lunch one day, the DJ on Channel 6 announced that Channel 3 is currently (and temporarily) assigned entirely, 24/7, to Neil Diamond music. Now I’m aware that Elvis (Channel 13), Jimmy Buffet (Channel 31), and the Grateful Dead (Channel 32), all have their own exclusive Sirius channels, but I thought to myself: Neil Diamond? Really? (Why not the Beatles!?)

Well, anyway, I was intrigued. Neil Diamond has always pretty much been a favorite of mine. I still remember quite vividly seeing him in concert on February 27, 1971, at Gill Coliseum in Corvallis, Oregon. At the time, I was a long-haired, bearded lad of 23, in my first year of grad school at Oregon State University. (And Neil Diamond had just turned 30 the month before…it’s amazing what you can find out on the internet if you just poke around a little.) Margaret and I had great seats, somewhere in the first ten rows, if I recall correctly. Toward the end of the concert he introduced and sang a new song that he said was going to be released soon: I Am … I Said.

I am, I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
I am, I cried
I am, said I
And I am lost, and I can’t even say why
Leavin’ me lonely still…

It was released exactly a month later, on March 27, and of course, was a huge hit. I swear: I have always loved that song from the moment I first heard it.

But, I digress.

I immediately tuned into Channel 3, and yes, there he was, Neil himself, talking about the writing of one of his songs. I caught the narrative mid-stream, so I wasn’t sure which song. He was rambling on about this particular piece, and he claimed he didn’t know what it was really about during the time period he was writing it. It was a rather long intro, and then the song played. I had never heard it before, and I remember thinking: how can I not be familiar with this (a Neil Diamond) song?!

Well, as it turns out, he has a new album out called Home Before Dark. Amazon.com informs me that it was just released on April 29, and his website lets us know that this is his 46th album and the only one to debut at Number 1.

The song that I first listened to in the car that noon hour is entitled “If I Don’t See You Again.” It so moved me that it’s the inspiration for this little essay here today.

I don’t know what your experience will be when you hear this song (or what your experience might already have been), but my reaction was (and still is) highly emotional. Quite literally, from the simple opening chords, right until the end, this song seemed to touch me to the core. I can barely remember my drive that lunch hour as I was transported to some other dimension for those seven and a quarter minutes. And, after it played, I could barely remember any of the words…I just had this feeling…

What is the song about? Well, for me, the kicked-in-the-gut reaction it produced suggested it was entirely about loss. While listening I was awash in a huge, familiar physical-emotional response: familiar because of its association with times in my life when things have changed dramatically…when I’ve had to leave people or places behind. Of course, the last four years of my life have been almost entirely about change and loss, so I’ve come to view myself as somewhat of an expert in these areas.

I guess there might be other interpretations, but I’d say this song is about losing a love. And what life brings on when that happens. A tear came to my eye as I listened…the words and the melody poking through an emotional wall I seem to have built up in myself in recent months: a barrier that has apparently prevented me from completely dealing with the depths of the sadness brought on by the loss of a love, and a familiar life, in Oregon.

I can’t seem to get enough of this tune. While it caught me unawares last week, I was immediately hooked. I downloaded it from iTunes that same night, and have been playing it ever since. Exactly what’s going on here, I’m not sure. I just know that my attraction to this song is a powerful one.

And how coincidental that it comes along at this particular time. It was also last week that I was talking to some former colleagues in Oregon, mentioning both my blessings of a new life now made in California, as well as still carrying an overarching belief that Oregon is where I belong.

I suppose this is not very complicated at all. This tune is one that, for whatever reason, touches my soul, and speaks to me about the people and places I no longer have around.

And reminds me of the question that all-too-frequently pops into my mind during unguarded moments: what if I don’t see you again?

Soundtrack Suggestion

Who am I kidding I’m going nowhere
I can’t even get through an hour without you
Should be ashamed
Just want to hear you calling my name
Two of us missed connections
Guess we must have somehow missed
          something more
’Cause we’re here alone
I know we’re together
But too far apart to know how to get back home…

If I don’t see you again
Somehow we both made it through
I woulda gave up on life
Before I gave up on you
You went and turned me around
Could be was something you said
I couldn’t make out the sound
I didn’t care what it meant
If I don’t see you again
If I don’t see you again
If I don’t see you again

(“If I Don’t See You Again” – Neil Diamond)