Perfect Songs - Manna

This originally appeared over ppcorn.com (formerly FDRMX) back in December of 2014. At the time, I was beyond thrilled because Tanya Donelly commented on it. A week later, my dog, Kane, died and I was devastated, but this song had laid some kind of groundwork for me to deal with it. Over there it was filed under Single Review, even though it wasn't a single. Here, I place it back in it's proper place as a Perfect Song.

I got to see Ms. Donelly with Belly last year in Brooklyn, and while I didn't get to hear this song live, it was still moving to finally get to hear her live, in person and at close range after all the years of wanting to.

Emotional responses to music do not depend on having any understanding of what the song is supposed to be about. In many cases it can happen even if you don’t understand the language at all and there are instrumentals that can evoke very specific feelings. Sometimes we do understand the language but the lyrics are just cryptic enough to somehow put you in a very vivid, if mysterious frame of mind. You won’t know what the original intent of the song is, but it won’t matter, and really it hardly ever does. When art manages to connect with something universal, while doing something that is likely very specific, it’s breathtaking, but when it does this and maintains a certain air of mystery that allows you to make it wholly your own, we’re in a transcendent space altogether. For me, a clear example of this is Tanya Donelly’s “Manna” off her first solo album, Lovesongs for Underdogs.

I fell in love with this song the instant I heard it, 17 years ago. It opens with a quiet whistling wind like sound that leads to a simple acoustic guitar chord progression, complete with fret noise that seems to suggests weariness. The song instantly transports me to another room and though I’m not entirely sure what is in that room, I know it’s white and there is a large open window with white lace drapes, letting the light shine through. And although the room is comfortable and providing some sort of relief, there’s a sense of sadness in it, or perhaps just melancholy. It might be grief. But tt might not be. It might just be intense love that somehow makes one weep at the sheer beauty of life. Either way, Tanya says she is “here now and I’m staying put, for reasons, my reasons” and I’m moved by her voice and presence. And she never tells us her reasons, which only helps this song become yours as you fill in your own reasons. Is this a deathbed she’s sitting next to? If so, whose? I don’t know, but it affects me in a very deep way that I cannot explain.

Once the chorus kicked in that first time I heard this song, and every time since, I was blasted with nostalgia that I could not put my finger on but also could not deny or avoid in any way. That marching snare drum and cello and the melody of Tanya’s angelic voice reminded me of something from my childhood. Over the years I’ve determined that it somehow brings to mind an artist my parents used to play when I was a kid, Demis Roussos. But try as I might, there’s no one specific song that I can say directly connects. It could be several, from “Goodbye My Love, Goodbye” to “Morir Al Lado De Mi Amor” or even his cover of Edith Piaf’s “Hymne a L’amour.” Interestingly, each one of those could also relate to “Manna” thematically, but I would not have known that from hearing them as a child.

I’ve always leaned towards thinking this song was about someone who comes to visit a dying loved one. Perhaps that’s because I took the lyric “and when I hold you like tomorrow you might die, well, that’s because you might, but I’m here now and I’m staying put for reasons my heart knows” literally. But over the years, I’ve also come to appreciate the preciousness of life to the point that I think I understand that we are always dying and now I think that’s what the song is about. And while that may be morbid, it’s also quite beautiful and touching to accept it so that you can fully love someone in the moment. What’s truly amazing to me is that while that idea comes through so clearly, there are verses about a “milky whiteness” that leave me scratching my head. Could the song be about trying to conceive a child? It’s likely this song is about something very specific in Tanya’s life, but I couldn’t care less to pry into what’s behind it because It’s now about so much more than what she might have intended that I think she succeeded, regardless. It’s a perfect song.

Twist of Kane

We should always make time for this.

I recently posted a review of Tanya Donelly’s “Manna” over at FDRMX which resulted in Tanya herself reading it and commenting on it. It made my year. In that review I talked about the preciousness of of life and how every moment we’re dying so we should appreciate life. A week later, my dog, Kane died, because that’s how it works, I guess. He was 12 and would have been 13 in a month. I found him peacefully gone in his bed. He was the first pet I ever had and likely the last because I'm not sure I can do it again. It was heartbreaking, but that’s life/death.

Young and shiny.

When I took his body to the vet for cremation, there was a lady there who I guess had just dropped off her dog to be boarded or something. When she heard my dog had just died she said she was sorry and then asked if I had any pictures. When I said I didn't, she proceeded to show me pictures of her dog on her phone. They weren't even the same breed. It’s the oddest thing I've ever seen anyone do in a situation like that and it made me wonder if this is something she does when people pass. “Sorry about your grandpa. Here’s a picture of mine, though.” It makes no sense. But the more I think about it, what does in that situation, really? “I’m sorry”? For what? You didn't do anything wrong. Unless you killed them which if so, the conversation is not likely going to go well. “Is there anything I can do” is always said by the best people and I don’t say that with any sarcasm, but really, there’s never anything you can do. And I think we all know that. I won’t go into the whole “they’re in a better place” nonsense because that I honestly find insulting. But the truth is, the things we say, none of them are for the benefit of the grieving. These things are only said to make the person saying them feel better. And it’s understandable. Death affects everybody and when we reach out to a grieving loved one, we want to assure ourselves that they’ll be alright, because if they aren't alright, we might not be either. That’s not selfish, that’s the give and take of love.

I know, Kane. I know.

The greatest professor I ever had, for many reasons, not just the one I’m about to mention, once said that he had reached a point where his phrase for the grieving was simply “I don’t know what to say,” because he really didn't. This was coming from a man who was not only incredibly intelligent but was a student of the human condition through literature and culture. If he didn't know what to say, what are the odds there was anything to say at all. He said this before I ever lost anyone, so I didn't fully understand how correct he was, but it has stayed with me all these years later and being on the other end of that when my dad passed away was the first time I learned how right he was. And ever since then I've taken it as my own, but gone a step further. I generally don’t say anything and just offer a hug. The only comfort is living, really.

Anyway, this is a music blog. When we first got Kane, one of my favorite things to do was ride around in my car with him, windows down, blasting metal. Usually Danzig. He was named for Citizen Kane, but still, “Twist of Cain” was kind of the song. He was my devil dog.

Goodbye, Devil Dog.