Dar Williams [Singer-/Songwriter]

Dar Williams (geboren 1967) Musikstil wird meist als Folk respektive Folkpop oder in jüngerer Zeit (nun fast immer mit Band auftretend) auch als Americana bezeichnet. Sie betätigt sich außerdem auch als Autorin bzw. Schriftstellerin.




Alben - Übersicht:

• The Honesty Room (Erstveröffentlichung 1993; wiederveröffentlicht 1995)
• Mortal City (1996)
• End Of The Summer (1997)
• Cry Cry Cry (1998; als Band namens Cry Cry Cry, zusammen mit Richard Shindell und Lucy Kaplansky)
• The Green World (2000)
• Out There Live (2001)
• The Beauty Of The Rain (2003)
• My Better Self (2005)
• Live At Bearsville Theater (CD und DVD, 2007)
• Promised Land (2008)
• In the Time of Gods (2012)
• Emerald (2015)
• I’ll Meet You Here (2021)

Ich gehe hier nur auf einige der wohl über 100 Songs ein, die jeweils einen eigenen Beitrag bekommen. Dabei geht es um Songs bis 2005.

Der Song "Love Is A Dying Plant" von The Comfort hat mich mit der Pflanzen Allegorie an "February" (1996 / Mortal City) von Dar Williams erinnert, welcher textlich überragend auch gerade in Bezug auf die Pflanze (crocus) als Allegorie für die Beziehung / Liebe ist.

Zitat

I threw your keys in the water, I looked back,
They'd frozen halfway down in the ice.
They froze up so quickly, the keys and their owners,
Even after the anger, it all turned silent, and
The everyday turned solitary,
So we came to February.

First we forgot where we'd planted those bulbs last year,
Then we forgot that we'd planted at all,
Then we forgot what plants are altogether,
and I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and
The nights were long and cold and scary,
Can we live through February?

You know I think Christmas was a long red glare,
Shot up like a warning; we gave presents without cards,
And then the snow,
And then the snow came, we were always out shoveling,
And we'd drop to sleep exhausted,
Then we'd wake up, and its snowing.

And February was so long that it lasted into March
And found us walking a path alone together.
You stopped and pointed and you said,

"That's a crocus, "
And I said, "What's a crocus?" and you said, "It's a flower, "
I tried to remember, but I said, "What's a flower?"
You said, "I still love you."

The leaves were turning as we drove to the hardware store,
My new lover made me keys to the house,
And when we got home, we just started chopping wood,
Because you never know how next year will be,
And we'll gather all our arms can carry,
I have lost to February

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"What Do You Hear In These Soungs" (End Of The Summer / 1997) ist ein übelst toller Song (für mich) über die Bedeutung von Musik:

Hier möchte ich vorab nur ein paar zentrale Stellen hevorheben:

What do you hear in these sounds?

What do you hear in these sounds?

.

I say I hear a doubt, with the voice of true believing

And the promises to stay, and the footsteps that are leaving

- wie unfassbar gut sind allein diese beiden Zeilen als Antwort auf die Frage was sie in der Musik hört.

Später erweitert sie diese Aussage:

"The stories that nobody hears, and

I collect these sounds in my ears, and

That's what I hear in these sounds, and

That's what I hear in these,

That's what I hear in these sounds."

Ein Zugang den nicht jeder hat. So fragt (und relativiert) die Therapheutin die Bedeutung:

She says "Look, you come here every week

With jigsaw pieces of your past

Its all on little soundbites and voices out of photographs

And that's all yours, that's the guide, that's the map

So tell me, where does the arrow point to?

Who invented roses?"

Hier die ganzen Lyrics:

Zitat

I don't go to therapy to find out if I'm a freak

I go and I find the one and only answer every week

And it's just me and all the memories to follow

Down any course that fits within a fifty minute hour

And we fathom all the mysteries, explicit and inherent

When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent

And she's so kind, I think she wants to tell me something,

But she knows that its much better if I get it for myself

And she says

.

What do you hear in these sounds?

What do you hear in these sounds?

.

I say I hear a doubt, with the voice of true believing

And the promises to stay, and the footsteps that are leaving

And she says "Oh, " I say, "What?" she says, "Exactly, "

I say, "What, you think I'm angry

Does that mean you think I'm angry?"

She says "Look, you come here every week

With jigsaw pieces of your past

Its all on little soundbites and voices out of photographs

And that's all yours, that's the guide, that's the map

So tell me, where does the arrow point to?

Who invented roses?"

And

.

What do you hear in these sounds?

What do you hear in these sounds?

.

And when I talk about therapy, I know what people think

That it only makes you selfish and in love with your shrink

But oh how I loved everybody else

When I finally got to talk so much about myself

.

And I wake up and I ask myself what state I'm in

And I say well I'm lucky, 'cause I am like East Berlin

I had this wall and what I knew of the free world

Was that I could see their fireworks

And I could hear their radio

And I thought that if we met, I would only start confessing

And they'd know that I was scared

They'd would know that I was guessing

But the wall came down and there they stood before me

With their stumbling and their mumbling

And their calling out just like me, and

.

The stories that nobody hears, and

I collect these sounds in my ears, and

That's what I hear in these sounds, and

That's what I hear in these,

That's what I hear in these sounds.

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