sometimes, something happens when you hear a song 100 times.
it can be very damaging to your view of the song, and can even change the way you are able to hear the song, musically, emotionally, or otherwise. a song you have heard many times as a young person in passing on the radio, may simply wash over you as another tiny gem in a pool of a hundred others. we become saturated with melodies that slowly carve canyons into our mind, growing old and traveled.

salvation from this path often comes through a motion picture soundtrack.
here, the song is pulled from the sleepy pool of radiobound songs and placed in a wonderful new world of movement and purpose which may even serve to layer the emotion found in the song with new meaning afforded by its position in a film.

as a side note, i believe this is the reason soundtracks and music videos are so popular, especially with women, as they are much more emotionally conscious by nature.

but how can we account for a single song which has tunneled through years of airplay, surfacing in every successive decade, and understand it it's origins: the husband and wife who birthed it, the stunning women who performed it, the evil genius who brought them all together, and see them as one collective who somehow pushed this record towards the light of everlasting popularity.

the dozens of girls screaming in an audience may not have understood they were witnessing history, but their unending cries reflect the joy, excitement, and freedom, that a pivotal moment like this could elicit.
brian wilson called it the greatest pop song ever recorded.


how wonderful this preservation of a performance. a gift given to music.
a glimmer of beauty which seeped from the year 1963.
left to us for all time.
the vocals are live, the band roars over the crowd, and veronica bennett moves like she's the queen of the nile.


i believe this song may be a miracle.