My Favourite Sound// Paper Aeroplanes




Hi Everyone!


My favourite sound to listen to right now (like for the last two years or something) is a duo called Paper Aeroplanes, consisting of Richard Llewellyn and Sarah Howells.



I've always found music to be a magnificent provider of inspiration,  to instigate imagination and allow the total exploration of those silly things we call emotions, which then enables us to find the words to recreate it believably in the characters which we have imagined.Certain music has the ability to push me  to the very peripherals of emotional capability, good and bad, and even sometimes unexpectedly take me to places inside myself that I was unwilling ever to return, or was previously unaware even existed. Sometimes that level of immersion can be absolutely obliterating.


That's what it is to listen to Paper Aeroplanes.



Their music is magical.



It's not just getting lost in the music itself, the corresponding layers of sound created by instruments and voices. It's getting completely lost in your own mind, in the sensation that your brain synthesises in harmony with how you are perceiving what you hear - all of which is completely unique to yourself, and will never be felt by any other soul.


 When a group of humans gather, eager bodies pressed together under the ambient glow of arena lights, faint specks of rain glittering down from the twinkling night sky, something happens. When the throbbing percussive beats begin to roll out across the bobbing heads,  like a thousand waves crashing against the rocky pebbles of a shore, a rippling, spine-tingling cheer erupts from the masses- countless multitudes of people screaming and shouting in one unmistakable echo, all simply unable to contain their anticipation and excitement any longer, then, like an orchestral eruption, in one simultaneous explosion of ecstasy, each harmonising instrument bursts into its own unique melody, weaving and melding perfectly in the air like golden threads spiralling upward into the form of a sonic phoenix, and it soars out across the expanse to greet each and every keen ear, who return the aural embrace with that one, united roar once more, and suddenly all hands are in the sky, desperate fingers stretching up as high as they can to catch any glimpse of the shimmering tailwind left behind by the great golden bird taking flight across the crowd, formed by the artist, the music makers on the stage, who are completely immersed, lost and impassioned by the sheer conviction of their own creation - it  is an experience comparable to nothing else I have ever experienced.



Except, Paper Aeroplanes aren't like that. They are impossibly possibly a million times better.


I used to sit in the dark, night after night, with my  headphones on full volume in my ears, dreaming of the most unfathomable ideas, inventions, journeys, adventures and challenges that I could do with my life, all spurned from feeling the power of the sound, and the strength it gave me. It was like a drug, and I couldn't seem to express to anyone just what it did for me. I was about thirteen when I first heard them, and  instantly knew they were something so incredibly magical that nothing would ever be the same again.


  Because listening to their songs, it doesn't just make me think, or make me wonder. It fully takes a hold of the very essence of my life and soul and makes me feel things I never could've imagined that I'd feel. If I had superpowers, I imagine the first time they'd ever come out would be when listening to this kind of music, because it makes me feel such extraordinary emotions that I can almost believe I have moved past the human state into something entirely more remarkable. When my heart is pounding in my chest and I clench my teeth together, my pupils dilate and I feel all of the air coming whooshing out of my lungs as goose-bumps tear across my skin, I become invincible, immortal. I'm listening to it right now, and I'm finding it super hard not to completely lose myself in a dream.



Because when you listen to music like this, it really does hit this spot deep inside of you, a spot which everyone in the world has but has never been able to really admit to themselves. Secretly, deep down, you have this small but ever present feeling that perhaps, of all the people in the world, it was you that was meant to do something important. It is your life, your existence above everyone elses that is the significant one.

The song below is called Days We Made. It was definitely one of the first songs I heard, and it's just so haunting beautiful that I sing it for days on end.







The next song I want to share with you is called Lost, and I'm pretty sure it was the first song I came across.








And even though all their songs, especially the two above have struck a chord in me like no other, and are constantly on repeat, the ones below are the ones I just can't get over.
Aberystwyth
Tuesday
When The Windows Shook
Not As Old




There are others, but I just love them so much I'd probably put everything on here, and you have to discover their magical beauty for yourselves, okay?
The guitar. That voice. That voice goes right through me, like a permanent echo. These songs make me see. I see such power and passion beneath my burning eyelids. I have to clench my jaw together tightly because I feel like my head will explode if I don't try and take control of what I see. I see people, humans, in their masses,  I see earth cracking, crushing and breaking, crumbling away and rocks crushing together. I see fingernails digging deep into the sand and grit. I see the pure, raw power of a human being, and the potential that one person has. A  little girl, running, skipping, flying across the mountains and the skies and the trees and the rocks and waves and water. I see the passion in creation of all who have lived, all that has existed and all that will continue to thrive on our planet, trembling with life. Images flash before my eyes of the deserts, the mountains, the cities, the marshes, storms, rocky waterfalls, rainforest's, the whole world smashing together all at once and pressing down upon my soul and burning into my eyes, because the earth is mine. The earth is here for me to create beauty with and here it is, laid out before me. I can be so great. I will be so great. I want to run out into the rain and stomp and splash around and scream so loudly to mark place on earth, and shout "HERE I AM!" and for the world to see me, and to acknowledge me. And then,


 It's over.


 I feel raw. In the silence I hear my own frantic heart and my breathing and I instantly feel foolish. Because when I take out my headphones, all that is gone. I'm back in my bed in my pyjamas, with a few books on my bed, guitar in the corner and Sherlock on the telly, and life is mundane and average again. It doesn't seem possible that these two worlds can co-exist, the world I find when I listen to those songs and the world that I actually live in. 

 It's like when you're in the cinema and you get so caught up with how incredibly moving a scene is, that you actually weep at the sheer sorrow of the characters. You become so immersed in the plot that you entirely suspend disbelief and real empathy appears and you cry for them. Then the lights come up, you look around and you laugh at the fact that you were just crying, 'cause you remember that you're actually in a cinema, and not lying on a dismantled door of the in the frozen Arctic sea, watching the love of your life die.
When you listen to Paper Aeroplanes it's not just 'listening to music'. However silly  it sounds, it's not just listening. It's a full emotional, spiritual, physical and biological journey, a complete onslaught of the senses where I am entirely catapulted into another universe and I see things, that one could never dream of seeing.


Hey, maybe I do have super-powers after all, and my power is that when I listen to certain music, I can bridge the gap to another world.


I like that. Let's go with that.
Anne x
You can find Paper Aeroplanes on :






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