Vibrations
If we’re keeping score, she knew before I did. She maintains she knew from the start, but if pressed she’ll say she knew knew within a couple of weeks. And, at the risk of sounding defensive, I wasn’t far behind. The story of how we met is improbable, convoluted; entirely down to a combination of chance, misapprehension and good timing. I don’t believe in the idea of universal collusion bringing people together, but I feel like we were meant to meet. How we met is unconventional, but, to be honest, I’m more interested in what happened when we did meet. I remember, years prior, talking with a friend of a friend (who, in a weird quirk, was the younger brother of my first ever girlfriend) about human compatibility. His theory (as a musician and a prolific stoner) was that everyone gives off vibrations, much like musical instruments, or, indeed, sound in general. These vibrations can’t be heard, but can be felt, almost imperceptibly, on a fundamental level. When you meet someone, in any situation, your vibrations combine. Some clash horribly, which accounts for feelings like of instant, mutual dislike, or general wariness. Most vibrations combine harmoniously enough, and you get along, on some level, with the majority of people. The vibrations also account for most relationships you develop depending on the compatibility you share with someone else.
Does that make sense? OK, let’s work from a point that assumes the above is true.
Take a moment and think of your favourite harmony singers. Don & Phil Everly. Charlie & Ira Louvin. Maybelle & Sarah Carter. Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris. The Staple Singers. The voices that suggest maybe God does exist and lives in the exact point where those harmonies meet (which, incidentally, is how I believe religion may have started). Voices that show you, even if just for a moment that there is beauty and joy and light and warmth in the world. When we met, we were the McGarrigle sisters, Big Star, Gladys Knight & the Pips. In the ephemeral space where our vibrations intertwined, we were the Beach Boys. And it was intense and beautiful and, briefly, terrifying. Because I honestly believe that if it’s not a little bit scary at first, you’re doing it wrong. After a while, the fear went away and was replaced by a feeling that, yes, this is exactly how it should feel. A realisation that, while we’d certainly both experienced harmony before, it had never felt it like this. It’s worth stating again that this all happened within the space of a few weeks. I second guessed myself, third-, fourth-guessed. But every time I came up with the same answer. Spiritually, physically, emotionally I had no frame of reference for this. Regardless of how trite this may sound (and I concede that it may), I can think of no better way to put it. Next time you listen to #1 Record, or Pet Sounds, or lose yourself in the interplay between Mavis, Pops & the Staples, or the Temptations, really listen. Those harmonies. Those vibrations.
That is what it feels like. Or at least that’s what it feels like to me.