I Was Born.

I listen to music on my runs. I know there’s a debate about whether you “should” do this if you are a “real” runner.

Whatevs.

Music is just a part of running for me. Especially on my long runs. Something happens to my brain chemistry as the ache starts to ramp up in my legs that just processes music different.

So, this morning at mile nine or so, on comes “I Was Born” by Joan of Arc. Here’s the song. It’s one minute and eight seconds. You have time to listen to it.

I’ve heard this song who knows how many times (although most of them were in my 20s, so it’s debatable if that counts). But I never really heard it until this morning.

Here’s my interpretation of this song. I have no clue if this what was Tim Kinsella intended when he wrote this, but as I’ve written before, the meaning of art is left to the beholder.

First off, there are only nine words in this song:

That’s it.

But come on, what else does there need to be? This is one of the most powerful statements I have ever heard in music. In nine words, Tim Kinsella tells us why we suffer. It’s a firm, quick, and loving slap in the face to wake up from our trance.

But there are other hints he drops throughout the song that I think complete the story. First off, the song title is “I Was Born.”

This is a huge hint to me on what he may have intended. It could be that this one minute song encapsulates an entire lifetime. We are born at the start, we come to a realization in the middle, and then we die at the end.

That’s a powerful interpretation to me, largely because of how short the song is. I’ve found the more I think about my own mortality, the more alive I feel. So, if I put this song on repeat, I am born and then die every minute. Lots of thinking about my own mortality! Powerful stuff.

But there is another interpretation. Maybe we are truly born when we come to the realization that Kinsella expresses in these nine words. I mean, am I truly living if I am constantly “wanting?” It doesn’t feel like it.

But I’m not sure because of the third clue.

The drums.

Now, I am a drummer, so I probably read way too much into drums. But hey, I’m the beholder right? So, let’s go with it.

Listen to the drums at the start. Specifically the high hat and cymbal work (which is quite impressive). It’s fast paced. It’s high energy. It to me feels like my energy was in my 20s and 30s. Just super confident that I knew WTF I was doing (… I didn't).

Then the song stops.

Tim says his nine words.

And when the drums come in the beat has moved to the toms. It feels more foreboding. More lumbering. More serious.

On top of that the guitar loops… and most importantly, the bass line descends.

It feels like the song is dying.

So I’m not sure what to make of this, which is why it's so brilliant. Does Tim Kinsella come to this epiphany, and then just trudge along without making the changes he needs to make? Or does he have this realization, and then stop “wanting”?

I don’t know. And since he’s such a brilliant artist, I’m quite sure he’ll never tell us.

All I do know is those nine words were everything to me today.

Thank you, Tim!

And thank you, weather, for finally breaking so I could run outside and have this experience with music I love!

~Eric