and Words
You said that we would always be
Without you, I feel lost at sea
Through the darkness, you′d hide with me
Like the wind, we’d be wild and free
You said you′d follow me anywhere
But your eyes tell me you won’t be there
I’ve gotta learn how to love without you
I′ve gotta carry my cross without you
Stuck in the middle, and I′m just about to
Figure it out without you
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
Weeks ago, we replaced our 24-year-old daily driver. It had served us faithfully, but I worried about an eventual repair that would cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars. I narrowed it down to two models and arranged for a test drive. While I do most of the driving, she also needed to drive occasionally. Whatever we got needed to be something that we both enjoyed driving. Neither of my choices fit her needs, but we chatted with a very patient salesperson. Ultimately, we selected something that resembled our old workhorse with modern touches.
Among those modern touches lies an entirely new array of technology. We migrated the items from our older car into the new vehicle. Among those contents were cassette tapes for which we had no means to play anymore. Of course, there’d be new ways to play music. We rarely listened to music in our older car. The few times we did we curiously explored the contents of the tapes that still lingered in the car. Alternatively, we’d scan the airwaves searching for a radio station that may give us a tune we could tolerate for the drive.
However, with the transition to new technology, we could connect to our phones wirelessly through either Android Auto or Apple Car Play. This meant that we managed the music we played in the car digitally on our phones or computers. I created a combined playlist to which we may add tunes at our leisure. I seeded it with a few favorite tunes and off we went.
As we drove around during the remainder of our vacation, we listened to music for the first time in a long time during our drives. The playlist aptly named after the nickname for our new car continued to crank out tune after tune. Most music sounded familiar to us both. However, this playlist introduced me to a few new artists and songs. One such artist was Avicii. It started with this track, ‘Without You’. Its upbeat music deceptively spoke of a painful breakup.
The upbeat melodic music screamed from the speakers in the car as we traversed the streets. The music rejuvenated us as we regressed into our respective club days of our youths. Though those days were long ago and very far apart. I spent a summer finding my kin during the 1980s along Florida’s southeast coast. I imagined her days of dancing the night away were equally distinctive and memorable. This music artist with the funny name inspired our decades-old instinct to cheer and dance while traversing the suburban streets in a practical car. Listening to his music became a celebration of life.
Meanwhile, the music continued to flow. Multiple tracks with the funny artist’s name continued to appear on the screen. I filed it away the way I did in the 1980s before the days of music streaming and Shazam.
And serendipitously, as we browsed movies on Netflix, we found a documentary about Avicii. While we didn’t watch it immediately, we added it to our list. A couple of days had passed before we finally got to it. I found it deeply interesting but won’t bore you by retelling all bits of the documentary.
Avicii’s real name is Tim Bergling. On a basic level, he’s a DJ and has collaborated with many artists. He was deeply influential in EDM (Electronic Dance Music). I both identified and empathized with him. Tragically, he was ridiculed and bullied as a child. They filled the documentary with video clips spanning his entire life, and you witness him withdraw as the bullying escalates. As a teen, he experimented with DJ software; that’s how it all started.
As his career grew, Tim worked relentlessly and often looked malnourished. Still, he was a wizard with melodies and picked up music quickly. Many with whom he collaborated praised him. While Tim didn’t play any musical instruments, at least not well enough to perform at that scale, he possessed an uncanny ear for music. His laptop was his musical instrument; others marveled at the alacrity with which he produced music. He was the ‘computer geek’ among the musicians and generally performed as well as conventional musicians. He reminded me of myself when I started programming when no one knew precisely what to do with these new devices called ‘computers’.
Tim claimed that Avicii, his stage name, means ‘the lowest level of hell in the Buddhistic religion’. And while that name is dark and fascinating, it sadly foretells his eventual fate. Tim Bergling died by suicide at the age of twenty-eight. As I reflect on his career and his rapid rise to stardom, a quote from Blade Runner runs through my head:
The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long – and you have burned so very, very brightly
Though honestly, I can’t help to weep and fume about his death. Loved ones have died by suicide. I didn’t know Tim personally; nor did I discover his music until after his death. However, selfishly I can’t help but ponder about all the music he would’ve released. And on a personal note, I can’t help but empathize with this young man.
How is it that people die like this before we recognize their suffering? Can we change the taboo around death like this? How do we talk our loved ones off that ledge?
As a footnote, this marks the first instance of two posts referencing the same song name. The first spoke about Harry Nilsson’s rendition of ‘Without You’. I imagined this would eventually happen, though I speculated it would be for a cover of the same song (especially this one). In this instance, the songs are distinctively different.