The NYT did an audio/video clip about Zedd. It's about his new song, "The Middle." A twenty-three-year-old woman in Australia wrote it. She had been sent a melody, and then, into her head came: "Baby, why don't you just meet me in the middle?" And: the rest is history. A sound engineer somewhere really liked the sound a medieval axe flying through the air and smacking into a piece of wood--because of "Game of Thrones"?--and he especially liked that you generally don't hear this sound in top-40 hits, and so he added that (apparently). And then Zedd--the mesmerizing young pixie man from Russia(?)--became involved.
It's not entirely clear to me what Zedd added. Well, he did find the singer--Maren Morris. He looks into the camera and says, somberly, "I knew the vocalist needed to sound just like the songwriter--but better." This is said with the self-seriousness of God announcing the Ten Commandments. Apparently, some A-list singers sounded great but failed to capture the pain in the lyrics. And then Morris arrived. It really is a stroke of genius to cast Morris in this song, because she's going against her own grain. Surprises result. A country singer has made a big Zedd song. It's like making Robin Williams the killer in "Insomnia," or like having Lily Tomlin do grand operatic tragedy in "Damages."
Somewhere along the way, the twenty-three-year-old gets lost. To me, she deserves the lion's share of the credit. I do notice, in the video clip, at some point Zedd introduces "The Middle" as "my new song" to some adoring fans. And that's striking. A more thoughtful person might have said: "This is the song that a talented Australian person wrote and gave to me; I added some twists." Curious. We last hear from the Australian when she is at some big music awards show, and she tentatively approaches Maren Morris and then gushes for a minute. We get a sense of peasants gathering at the palace gate, hoping the self-absorbed royals might toss out some coins as a leisure activity.
"The Middle" is not "Anna Karenina." But it has some smart features. It's a song about ambivalence. The lover wants one thing, and notes she will never get it, but she can will herself to meet this guy "in the middle." She will command her reluctant body and heart to do things the body/heart complex actually sort of resists doing. This is the human condition. (Ambivalence is not a lack of feeling, but is instead two very strong, conflicting feelings, existing together, at once. This is something Sondheim understands.) The Australian--clearly bright--stumbles on various kitchen metaphors as a way of expressing internal pain. "Sat on the stairs," "cabinets are bare." Something is blocking her ascent, and also her reserves are draining, her own (non-literal) cabinets are now bare. (Am I over-reading here? Ah, well!) Anguish becomes a kind of "Fatal Attraction" scenario. Someone has left the tap on in the kitchen, so that grating dripping sound is in the background, and also the water has flooded the sink and it's snaking down onto the floor. All is rotten in Denmark. "Dishes are broken"--both material, physical dishes and the dishes within the Australian's fragile heart! The Australian repeatedly baffles even herself: "How did we get into this mess?" "I know we meant all good intentions." "I'm unaware of just how we got here." Who could fail to relate?
In the bridge, the screaming id asks, "Why don't you pull me close?" "Why don't you come on over?" She says, "I can't just let you go." And yet: she might just have to let him go. No answers are offered. This, to me, seems to be an accurate reflection of actual experience. Lorrie Moore says, "The critic holds up the object and asks, how much felt and lively life was baked in here?" It seems to me that actual life found its way into this one pop song.
Zedd, like Taylor Swift, makes his living off ambivalence. "Are you gonna stay the night? Doesn't mean we're bound for life. I know that we are made to break. So what? I don't mind." "All you have to do is stay a minute. Just take your time. Hope the winds of change will change your mind. You've got to make it on your own--but we don't have to grow up." The mind half-changed--stuck between gears--this is compelling stuff. I'm always delighted when "being of two minds" becomes the theme of a pop song. It's Bieber's lucky number: "You nod your head yes when you want to say no." It's also a favorite condition of Lorde's: "I hear brand new sounds in my mind--but, honey, I'll be seeing you wherever I go. I'm waiting for it--that green light."
So: all that's what I think when I hear "The Middle." Keep an eye on that Australian. We must seize good writing wherever we may find it!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lj6Y6JCu-l4
It's not entirely clear to me what Zedd added. Well, he did find the singer--Maren Morris. He looks into the camera and says, somberly, "I knew the vocalist needed to sound just like the songwriter--but better." This is said with the self-seriousness of God announcing the Ten Commandments. Apparently, some A-list singers sounded great but failed to capture the pain in the lyrics. And then Morris arrived. It really is a stroke of genius to cast Morris in this song, because she's going against her own grain. Surprises result. A country singer has made a big Zedd song. It's like making Robin Williams the killer in "Insomnia," or like having Lily Tomlin do grand operatic tragedy in "Damages."
Somewhere along the way, the twenty-three-year-old gets lost. To me, she deserves the lion's share of the credit. I do notice, in the video clip, at some point Zedd introduces "The Middle" as "my new song" to some adoring fans. And that's striking. A more thoughtful person might have said: "This is the song that a talented Australian person wrote and gave to me; I added some twists." Curious. We last hear from the Australian when she is at some big music awards show, and she tentatively approaches Maren Morris and then gushes for a minute. We get a sense of peasants gathering at the palace gate, hoping the self-absorbed royals might toss out some coins as a leisure activity.
"The Middle" is not "Anna Karenina." But it has some smart features. It's a song about ambivalence. The lover wants one thing, and notes she will never get it, but she can will herself to meet this guy "in the middle." She will command her reluctant body and heart to do things the body/heart complex actually sort of resists doing. This is the human condition. (Ambivalence is not a lack of feeling, but is instead two very strong, conflicting feelings, existing together, at once. This is something Sondheim understands.) The Australian--clearly bright--stumbles on various kitchen metaphors as a way of expressing internal pain. "Sat on the stairs," "cabinets are bare." Something is blocking her ascent, and also her reserves are draining, her own (non-literal) cabinets are now bare. (Am I over-reading here? Ah, well!) Anguish becomes a kind of "Fatal Attraction" scenario. Someone has left the tap on in the kitchen, so that grating dripping sound is in the background, and also the water has flooded the sink and it's snaking down onto the floor. All is rotten in Denmark. "Dishes are broken"--both material, physical dishes and the dishes within the Australian's fragile heart! The Australian repeatedly baffles even herself: "How did we get into this mess?" "I know we meant all good intentions." "I'm unaware of just how we got here." Who could fail to relate?
In the bridge, the screaming id asks, "Why don't you pull me close?" "Why don't you come on over?" She says, "I can't just let you go." And yet: she might just have to let him go. No answers are offered. This, to me, seems to be an accurate reflection of actual experience. Lorrie Moore says, "The critic holds up the object and asks, how much felt and lively life was baked in here?" It seems to me that actual life found its way into this one pop song.
Zedd, like Taylor Swift, makes his living off ambivalence. "Are you gonna stay the night? Doesn't mean we're bound for life. I know that we are made to break. So what? I don't mind." "All you have to do is stay a minute. Just take your time. Hope the winds of change will change your mind. You've got to make it on your own--but we don't have to grow up." The mind half-changed--stuck between gears--this is compelling stuff. I'm always delighted when "being of two minds" becomes the theme of a pop song. It's Bieber's lucky number: "You nod your head yes when you want to say no." It's also a favorite condition of Lorde's: "I hear brand new sounds in my mind--but, honey, I'll be seeing you wherever I go. I'm waiting for it--that green light."
So: all that's what I think when I hear "The Middle." Keep an eye on that Australian. We must seize good writing wherever we may find it!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lj6Y6JCu-l4
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