Mystical Roads

This song is a spell. Black Magic. One day not long ago, I sat silent in a room entranced by this song, a lie detector taped to my finger and a heart rate monitor strapped to my chest. For me, it is an enchantment -- and now I have scientific proof.

More later.

I’ve sorted my Resonance playlist by the characteristic of each song that makes them great to me – lyrics, music, etc. – and “Roads” by Portishead falls into the most nebulous category: Tone. It’s the overall ‘feel’ of the song, which would be impossible to convey perfectly in words alone. So, if you haven’t heard the song, I encourage you first to check out this video of the song played live in NYC:

The first pulsating chords of this song instantly snap me out of whatever I’m doing like a dinner bell to a dog. They command my attention with little regard for anything else. It’s a simple progression, really, but the sound of it is hypnotizing. The vibrating tremolo effect gives a warm, organic feel to what would be a cold electronic tone. Such pulsing effects appear in several of my Resonance songs, and it is what attracts me to dubstep music today.  They seem to connect on a primal level to our own heartbeats and the ebbs and flows of endocrine chemicals that manipulate our more animalistic emotions.

But if the effect brings warmth, the chord progression turns that back into something chilly – a feeling of quiet, calm foreboding. Of worry and dread, of grasping to a quickly fading hope. This, for me, is the tone of Roads.

These chords develop at an almost painfully slow tempo over the course of nearly a minute, establishing a tension that is only partially relieved by the entry of the drums and vocals. The trip-hop rhythm characteristic of the band’s repertoire is slow and syncopated – slightly off from the norm but adding a groove that makes songs like this flow so well.

Beth Gibbon’s vocals cut through these rounded tones and rolling rhythms with the gentle urgency reflected in the first words: “Can’t anybody see? We’ve got a war to fight!”  These conjure an image of a woman both defiant and despairing, and like Joan of Arc, desperate to build support for a cause only she fully understands. They also immediately entice the listener with a mystery: what is she battling and why? Why does she fight alone? Her words are delivered slowly in measured batches separated by long pauses, building suspense as you wait for each turn of the phrase.

Nearly two minutes in, a strings section descends into place accompanied by an organically warbling guitar. These add a cinematic quality and the feeling that we have entered act II of a tragic drama.

The total effect truly does have an intense psychological effect on me. It seems to resonate with my own personality: independent and sometimes defiant, but often brooding and analytical. Is this the right path? Why isn’t anyone with me? And sometimes, to quote the song: “How can it feel…this wrong?” But the song’s effect on my mood is soothing, not at all depressing. It feels comfortable, like home. Magic.

And, as I mentioned earlier, I have experimental evidence.  A few years ago I participated in an emotional computing study conducted by researchers within our labs. For a week, I wore sensors tracking my physical and emotional states. The latter was tracked by a galvanic skin response sensor, which measures stress as a function of the electrical resistance of the skin – i.e., a lie detector. Over the course of the week, this sensor recorded my stress response during daily activities. Most of the time, it was a jagged, erratic mess. Once I tried meditating, and the result was an arc that quickly drooped to a smooth, steady line at the bottom of the scale.

I tested the effect of several songs while wearing the sensor. The result with Roads was dramatic, much more so than any other song. It produced the same mellow curve I saw when meditating.  

This is a song that when played can change my psychological state, almost against my will.  Everyone has songs like these. In my mind, these are akin to magic. They are spells cast by greats artist who’ve discovered how to hack the human brain. They write them, and we recast them on ourselves whenever the need arises. Portishead’s Roads is one of the most powerful I have. What are yours?