The Mellifluous "Kill Me Softly" With Their Songs

God bless the understated, the soft, the prudent, and the wisely subdued. Listen carefully for their voices for they thunder not in volume and dominance, but they quietly diffuse their breath of spirit. Masters of quality, they withhold showy, overwhelming avalanches of egotistical mass while they emit to others only the most tasteful, seasoned thoughts long-filtered through their unpretentious souls. They have learned to strike at the heart of the matter instead of trusting chance. Dulcet and adept, they are the beautiful Mellifluous.

The Mellifluous, filled with refined and natural sweetness, flow with rich, unique understatement.

The Mellifluous possess aged and mellowed talents -- the real, gritty substance beneath the calculated articulation of their craft. Some critics mistakenly believe their marked simplicity and economy are products of infertile minds and dull imaginations. How untrue. For the Mellifluous, "meager" is a tool that conveys their basic understanding of grounded imperfection and using "meager" allows other humans to appreciate an unclouded view of the Mellifluous interpretation of  basic reality.

Free of excess ornamentation, the Mellifluous have schooled themselves in seminal works to better understand the roots and the core of truth inherent in the voices of those who have pioneered their endeavors. They do so not only to interpret the knowledge but also to expand "what counts" in the message. Minimizing themselves in the process, they produce their own unfiltered transfer of theme, free of excess exaggeration and interference.

Nowhere to me is the grace of the Mellifluous more apparent than in recorded popular music. When I hear a Sam Cooke voice, a Booker T organ, a King Curtis saxophone, or a George Harrison guitar, I feel as if I have been blessed with soulful restraint. Likewise, when I don't hear Charlie Watts drums or James Jamerson's bass, I realize the heart of the rhythm section is so tight, so seamless, and so unnoticeable that the song, not the performers, is the solid, understated medium that makes me never tire of listening.

Don't misread me. I am not a fan of easy-listening formats and soft, baseless delivery, so don't believe if I am stranded in an elevator, I am going to enjoy the tunes. (I may be showing my age. I know we used to refer to this dribble as "elevator music.")

And, if you prefer artists like Abba and Air Supply and Celine Dion to Buddy Guy and Tom Waits and Laura Nyro, that's OK with me. It may be a matter of preference. I admit to being no fan of American Idol. I just understand that the Mellifluous rock me with their guttural nature and impeccable understanding of quality more than their smooth, pretty sounds.   

Mellifluous music is like Mellifluous human beauty. Loud announcement and glittering ornamentation soon grow tiring to the eye. Simplicity and a certain roughness of surface are inherent in lasting beauty -- these qualities serve to captivate and hold attention because they are universal understandings of purity and truth.

Unshielded by vanity and unadorned by man-made modifications, a beautiful human employs natural attributes to enhance sensual appeal. In terms of attractiveness, too perfect is just unrealistic, smelling of an underlying artificial heart and soul. Often, willingness to accept a flawed appearance allows a person to become an intelligent, tender, but impassioned beauty.

So, to me, the Mellifluous are golden. They live and act their prudent art, and, in doing so, they make the world a sublime place in which to dwell. I have enough complication in my life without filling it to the lip with preponderance and clatter.

I guess I am not attracted to glitz, glamour, and gazillion. I fall for the understated, the simple magical connection so subtly weaved into the message. Be it a song or a person, I don't care for the over-produced, the falsely perfected, the shockingly stated, the artificially flavored, the dazzling, or the tribally tattooed.

Not that there's anything wrong with those of you who love the "overdeveloped." Lord knows I wouldn't want to offend a beautiful person bent on pursuing perfection and Disneyland. Let your Beamers, your Harleys, your Armanis, your Versaces, your Chivas Regals, your Coutures, your Chanels, and your Nikes lead you to sell out to an over-worn image and take you to the peak of your perceived "success."

I just believe all of us can find large doses of comfort and substance in the Mellifluous. You might even choose to become a devotee of enjoying such a style. Just one warning -- it's not as easy to be strong and subdued as you think. I should know because as much as I admire the Mellifluous, I can't make myself much less boisterous and subdued... that is, until I listen to the Mellifluous music or catch a smile from a Mellifluous woman.


King Curtis "Soul Serenade" at the Fillmore West

http://youtu.be/PVcEz8jdcig

Laura Nyro "Stoned Soul Picnic"

http://youtu.be/jwSNbC9zK-w



Booker T. "Green Onions" Live from Daryl's House

http://youtu.be/nVAFjvRBswY

Artist Design

Consider the following rhythm pattern: da-da-da-da da-da-da-da. Now consider this pattern slightly altered: da-da-da-da da-da-da-dum. What element of the pattern is bound to draw attention? Is it the nice, smooth flow of the repeated rhythm that creates the effect of an artful design or is it the interruption of the rhythm that pulls the audience away from endless repetition, though perfect in measure, that is bound to bore or distract the listener? The pattern depends upon the "dum." This interruption, or roughness of surface, is required to make the flow something other than just mechanical perfection. This is true in all art forms: unique design is related to such roughness of surface. Slight imperfection, roughness, or interruption-- in music, writing, painting, dance--makes the work believable and pulls people toward understanding beauty in the human condition of fallibility. Havelock Ellis states this concept as such: "The absence of flaw in beauty is itself a flaw." Francis Bacon echoes this thought: "There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion." For me, this roughness of surface is so evident in artful music. A performer that produces mechanical perfection without the birthmark of its human creation has created a work void of style. And, style is but the refinement of peculiarity. The true musical artists do not use stylistic devices; instead, they inherently produce them. Granted, every great artist employs imitation while emulating influences that have helped define his style, but to "karaoke" copy such style or merely show precision in delivery with tone and range dues nothing to advance musical artistry. Artists expand boundaries within forms such as rock, folk, jazz, blues, Cajun and zydeco, reggae, R&B, ethnic, and international music. And, to the careful listener, they rely upon delivering breathtaking performances with the help of roughness of surface. These artistic performers are not just great musicians. As Chris Standring, jazz artist relates, "They (artists) are those who have a driving desire and need to say something original artistically, to express themselves and to communicate that expression to an audience, be it a small niche market or wider demographic." They have a true desire to express a unique inner-voice whether millions or dozens are willing to listen. Thus, the artists lend credibility to their creations. An artist's technical shortcomings can actually be the very essence of his artistry. For example who does not know the distinct sound of B.B. King's guitar stylings--certainly one not filled with mountains of awesome licks. Or, who, at least at first, has not winced at the vocal intonations of Bob Dylan--loaded with gravel and grit. These artists have both developed and refined their talents to give unique voice to long-standing, often tired, forms of music. Artists first find their given talents and then learn how best to use them. Let's face it, if a musician were able to play an instrument technically perfect, at all speeds, meticulously so every note that came out was totally clean and audible, would this be ultimately interesting to an audience? Chris Standring answers, "Yes it might be very clever and impressive, but for how long could you listen to an album where every phrase felt like you were having your teeth drilled!?" So enters the importance of imperfection and roughness of surface to prevent such sterling but painful repetition. The beauty of an artist's performance relies upon his audience's associations with theme and content but also upon the fact that the audience "gets" the message through the method of humanistic delivery. Most great artists generally have a little mystery about them that seems to propel them above the status of mere entertainers. This mystery is based upon their sincere and dedicated talent with a responsibility to say something profoundly unique. This extra character also helps them develop their career longevity as they age into new, inspiring works. In 2004, Rolling Stone compiled an article,The Immortals, with the aid of a panel of fifty-five top musicians, historians, industry executives and critics, selected by the editors of Rolling Stone. Voters were asked to pick, in order of preference, the twenty artists they deemed to be the most significant and influential of rock's first fifty years, those whose work continues to have an impact today. Here are the first ten picks as presented in the article on April 15, 2004. 1) The Beatles 2) Bob Dylan 3) Elvis Presley 4) The Rolling Stones 5) Chuck Berry 6) Jimi Hendrix 7) James Brown 8) Little Richard 9) Aretha Franklin 10) Ray Charles