This song but not really this song. Bossy’s favorite thing is really about the transformative nature of songs.
When Bossy was on her 35-day Excellent Road Trip last spring, many people provided Bossy with music CDs since she spent an average of seven hours a day driving by her lonely lone self. Alone.
This song, Straight Lines by Silverchair, was situated on one of those CDs, handed to Bossy in Dallas Texas. Honestly it’s a song Bossy might normally hurry over on her way to something funky, clunky, or spunky, but see previous paragraph about seven hours a day alone in the car, and maybe you’ll understand why Bossy took the time to listen all the way through the song she thought was too serious and rock anthemy for her.
Bossy’s not sure what in whoey this nice young boy is singing about, a hole in his lung and stuff, good will inside of him and stuff, but then suddenly an unexpected weepy cord progression that sits on top of the time signature and provides the necessary twist to suck Bossy right in.
And then the song gets a little bigger in a Don Henley Boys of Summer way, and before you know it the chorus and bridge feel sweeping, and so does Bossy as she traverses long empty landscapes while the sun emerges from behind distant mountains.
This song that may have meant nothing in a different time and place became one that Bossy listened to over and over again, as it delivered her to that sad and contemplative state Bossy sometimes likes to dwell, and it propelled her Saturns forward.
When Bossy arrived home, she was eager to turn her family and friends on to this Road Trip song and others but you know what? No one felt it the same way. And that’s fine, because Bossy’s family and friends have transformative songs of their own.
And that’s the power of music.