The Very Thought of You
Song of the Day 08/22/2022
The Very Thought of You by Al Bowlly and The Ray Noble Orchestra
Of course, when the weather is humid, the sky is holding in its tears. Repression permeates the air, creating an oppressive atmosphere for those who live in it. Clouds on a humid day are like anxious, crazy people, prone to an outburst at any given moment. And when it rains: absolute catharsis, a burst of emotional relief. That could be why, statistically, there’s more violence, aggression in the summer. Tension is constantly boiling up, literally swirling around without any apparent release in sight. I don’t have all the stats in front of me, but I’d be willing to bet that during rainy days, and perhaps even in the calm, non-humid days afterward, there’s a greater sense of peace and equanimity, and also, fewer stabbings, shootings, or people getting into fights during traffic or long grocery store lines, all of those beautiful American pastimes. I love the rain. It’s a pause; a sense of relief and reflection amidst constant going and doing. And I dislike humidity, with all its bugginess, hysteria, claustrophobia.
It’s awfully humid today. Thunder and rain were promised but haven’t yet come. I went through a period of three years, I think, where I wasn’t able to cry, and didn’t cry until a personal, familial devastation occurred, although I could’ve used a good cry way earlier. I didn’t cry much more afterward, until I fell in love for the first time in a while. Then I cried all the time, mostly for no reason at all. It felt good. I can say with confidence that even if love doesn’t sustain, falling in love definitely does exist, and the cries that permeate that fall are ecstatic, filled with wonder.
I’ve adored this song for quite some time now. I don’t know why, but I always imagine, when it begins to play, a man running through the rain in a sort of hurried, nervous desperation, trying, perhaps, to stop a wedding from taking place, or doctors from euthanizing a beloved family member who wishes to die, something urgent yet personal, timely yet romantic, you get the gist. From the first notes of piano, I feel the emotional deliverance of rain, the freedom of release. I one day hope to direct a movie that begins with this song, is filled with this song, and ends with this song, right before the credits role, similar to Jean-Luc Godard's use of Theme De Camille in Contempt, that masterpiece from 1963, or Scorsese’s use of In the Still of the Night in The Irishman.
Music is incredible. It can, really, perfectly encapsulate a feeling, a vision, give way to entire worlds, novels, movies, perspectives, can’t it? In terms of what it can inspire and evoke in people, it’s the ultimate art form, I think.