Saturday, June 15, 2013

Wayne Coyne--Spot On.

Love, According to Wayne Coyne:

Wayne says, "your life is built on when love dies."

Wayne Coyne: "I think the reason we called the record "The Terror" is, we acknowledged to each other this dilemma that love is larger than life. I know that is absolutely true for people when they are young—you don’t want to be alive if the things that you love in your life aren’t there. Love is the thing that you pursue because it’s the thing that gives you all this life, or you believe that, anyway. Part of what we’re saying with this music is that love, it’s not a magic gravity that keeps everything up. Your life, unfortunately—and I mean this—your life is built on when love dies. There’s a lot of love in your life that will simply die. And you wish that you died with it, you know? But you don’t. And you go, oh, well, here I am.

I don’t know how if that will stay true for the rest of my life or what. But I know at the time we were making this music, it was true for us.

We wouldn’t be artists, writers, painters, musicians, if we weren’t sensitive. All the great things that I get to be curious about, see, and experience because I’m sensitive to the world, it also opens up these areas where there’s a lot of pain and suffering. You’re just aware, aware, aware. I’ll accept the pain and the suffering, because I know that in that there’s a lot of beauty, too. We don’t ever want to shut down and say, I’m afraid to go that far down the road because there’s going to be pain. There’ll be beauty, too, and if you stop here, you stop all that. The Terror refers to the sudden realization about yourself. We are all really alone. We’re isolated in our own mind. I want to know what you’re thinking, you want to know what I’m thinking. But we’re alone. In our own minds. We’re trapped in this sort of isolation. I think that’s what I mean by “the terror.” There’s a cave, we go inside of ourselves because we want to know more, and we turn this one corner and we go, Oh my god—I didn’t know that was in here. We can never go back to the way we were."


Kate said...

That has to be the most spine-tingling definition of love that I have ever come across . The greatest loves of my life are the ones that tore my heart right out of my body. Was the pain worth it? Would I do it again ? Yes and YES! The Flaming Lips aren't just a great band , they have a message,
a positivism , a celebration of life that distinguish them from other bands. Mr. Coyne , their articulate , passionate and fearless leader , combined with the musical genius of Steven Drozd, make a progressive , original and bold alternative to the run of the mill that dominates the mainstream.

Andrea Miklasz said...

Very well said, Kate!!!

The Lips are extraordinarily apt at dissecting the world for what is at its core with no bullshit. They're never going to write a bland "I love you, You love me" song. Because that's not what life is about.

I agree with Wayne completely about love building on when something dies. It could manifest itself in a number of ways--emotional death, spiritual death, romantic death physical doesn't matter. I think Wayne's larger point was to iterate that the very simplistic comment of "life goes on" certainly rings true, but that we simultaneously lose a part of us that we can't get back and no, nothing will be the same.

Wayne's on a journey right now--within himself. I understand that he was with Michele for 25 years, but they're not the same people in their early 50's as they were in their early 20's. That was certainly true in my marriage. People change. Tastes change. Compatibility changes.

Still, we cannot *not* go down that road and seek love. It's unnatural and leads to more pain, and as Wayne said, there's beauty in finding those moments. What's mind-blowingly sad is when you piece together all of those tender, magical moments they flash in your head and then find yourself listening to Kate Bush's "This Woman' Work."

I BAWLED in the car hearing that today, thinking about Guy's abrupt abandonment of me. I had given just that song, unmarked and untitled, on a single CD for Guy to listen to last year some time, which he thought was multi-layered and complicated, just like me. But there's SO much brutal truth in that song, it's amazing.
But I go, go go on. I hope the pain in my life eventually does me some good and leads me to the RIGHT person. But for now, I'm devasatedly depressed. My heart is physically and emotionally broken. Guy's silence is atypical and inconsiderate.

No text responses since May? He said "dinner might be more realistic" if he looked at his work schedule for June. June's almost over. I can't imagine why on earth he's totally vanished.

Very Moon said...

Where I'm at now, I think that we can't have new, possibly stronger, different, more, loves, if we are in a constant state of mourning what we've lost. I'm speaking for myself here. Without moving on, we are stagnant, and growth doesn't happen whenever things are cozy and comfortable. And that is terrifying, because in those moments of bliss, they are most perfect when you can accept they are fleeting.

I totally get this. I'm thrilled to know there are other artists who do too.

Andrea Miklasz said...

I don't know how I ran across this yesterday and reposted it to Facebook, but it was what I needed to hear the moment I needed to hear it. I spoke in my NYE blog of building n impenetrable wall against love and the possibility of getting my heart broken again, but thinking about what Wayne said, if I were to do that, I'd miss a lot of beauty down the road as well. I guess what I'm trying to say is that while I might not actively seek love in my life, I won't be UNhappy if it surprises me and comes along.

Very Moon said...

Yup. Exactly. Hurt is fairly inevitable. What matters is having the friends and support to deal with it. We are never really alone, at least never for long.

Andrea Miklasz said...

On that point, Very, I'd have to disagree with you. Even with friend support, or family support, or kids, we can be "alone" for a very, very long time. My one friend bawks at the term "single mom." She prefers "unpartnered parent." I think that's a tad over the top. Single = alone. Simple as that.

Very Moon said...

This could be one of those things where I'm so petrified of my own singleness right now, that I'm trying to console myself as well. I really don't like the idea of being alone-alone-alone. I LIKE people, and sharing different life things with people, even if it isn't always my bed.