You’re original, with your own path
You’re original, got your own way
– Leftfield, Original
Love like a signal you call
Touching my body my soul
Bring to me, you to meet me here
– Moodswings, Spiritual High, Part I
Everything’s a remix. Everything. Everything is derivative. Even the things we think of as wildly original. Everything is an echo of what came before. Even you.
When I heard Queen Latifa’s 2004 album of standards, The Dana Owens Album (Dana Owens was her name before she Queened herself), my favorite track was Mercy, Mercy, Mercy. It’s an awesome song that I love to use in class. If you listen to Queen’s version, you’ll hear her talk at the beginning. Check it out.
But then I heard Cannonball Adderly’s 1966 original Mercy Mercy Mercy in the jazz appreciation course I’m taking. Evidently, one thing Cannonball was famous for was doing a little talking introduction to his numbers. Listen to what he says in his intro.
Super cool. Not only was Queen Latifa creating a kickin’ cover of a classic, she was echoing Adderly while she was doing it.
When it comes to humor, I am totally low brow. Show me a clip from America’s Funniest Home Videos of someone wiping out on a sledding run and I will laugh myself senseless. (A trait that was perhaps once endearing to Frank now is just an eye-roller.)
It stands to reason then, that a Christopher Guest mockumentary complete with ridiculous wigs and goofy songs about terriers and “armadillos in their trousers” is right up my alley. In Guest’s spoof on folk music reunions, A Mighty Wind, we meet the daft trio The Folksmen. Their series of 60s-era albums (covers complete with matching outfits and silly poses) include Ramblin’, Wishin’, Hitchin’, Pickin’.
Which cracks me up.
But then I learned about The Miles Davis Quintet. In 1956, in a dash to fulfill their contract with Prestige records so they could sign with Columbia, Davis’ first great quintet recorded four albums in two days. The names of those great albums? Cookin’, Relaxin’, Workin’, Steamin.’
Suddenly, Guest’s joke about the lame folk trio is even funnier for its echo to one of the greatest jazz musicians of all time.
Every time you move your body, whether you are doing a lay-up or swinging a golf club or bustin’ a bad-to-the-bone dance move, you are echoing movement that has come before you. Someone taught you to walk, but no one walks like you. Someone can show you how to swing a tennis racket or do downward dog, but only you do it like you. There is the form of the movement and the form of your body and the form of this moment and the three come together in an alchemy of originality.
Every movement choice you make with your body, or for that matter, every thought you think and emotion you feel echoes in your bones. Especially choices you make regularly – always carrying your bag on your left shoulder, always running without stretching, always telling yourself that you aren’t good enough – will leave lasting impressions. Like the wind that blows and blows and blows to sculpt the pines, the choices we make echo into our future.
We have a similar impact on each other. Right now, you can think of a time when the words or actions of someone left a lasting impression of love and healing … or of pain and suffering. Just like your own choices, connections with others echo in our bodies and minds far into the future.
We are echoes reverberating with echoes. Original echoes. What is the tone you want to send into your future self and the future world?