A Legacy Inherited by the Licking Dogs

Wen Yizhou locked himself in the studio all night until early morning. He hadn't stayed up late for a long time, but he didn't feel sleepy at all, because the struggle of deliberation and choice and the refreshing alternation of inspiration and creativity kept stimulating him. brain, blunting all his senses except hearing.Many fragmented thoughts were poured out, flowing wildly over the strings and keys, and dripping awkwardly on the scattered papers all over the floor until the sunrise.

Wen Yizhou went out from the studio to go to the bathroom. When he passed by the living room, he found that it was already daylight. He wanted to sit on the sofa and rest for a while, but he just closed his eyes and fell asleep until three o'clock in the afternoon.

The orchestra has nothing to do today, only an insignificant greeting message from Sun Yanqi, Wen Yizhou crawled out of the sofa stiffly, ordered a cup of coffee, went into the room again, picked up the papers on the table and on the floor and listed them good.

He glanced at it, and found that although many passages were born in his hands last night, after a short sleep, there was a strange feeling—some were strange surprises, some were strange and awkward, he was like a person with deep obsessions. The criminal policeman hung all the clues on the wall, trying to follow the red line to the core of the case.

The phone rang, and the coffee arrived. Wen Yizhou looked at his phone and walked towards the door, when he suddenly saw a circle of friends that Lin Yuean updated in the morning.It was probably taken during his morning jog, and it was the street park on the side of the road between Lin Yue'an's home and the team's training ground.

Wen Yizhou paused, and carefully clicked on the photo to observe - the scenery and angle were very similar to the one he took before, but he couldn't help but think about it, the delivery man outside the door had already knocked on the door angrily. Door.

Wen Yizhou opened the door angrily: "Here we come!"

The delivery man stuffed the coffee into his hand, turned his face and left.

Wen Yizhou: "..."

The thick milk latte warmed his stomach, and also buffered some of the hunger that had already been overwhelmed. Wen Yizhou sipped his coffee, with one hand on his hip, and examined the music on the entire wall.

Vibrant inspiration is like naughty children crowding the entire playground, noisy and out of order, scrambling to speak louder.He doesn't know what other people's habit of writing lyrics is, but his own lyrics are just stacks of scattered and immature modern poems.

All the musical instruments in the house were used by him and spread out in front of him.He looked at the wall as if he was looking at a mood board. Key words include loneliness, restraint, and secrecy.There is love, regret, free and easy, noisy youth with thoughts and memories, and growing old silently.There are cities, grasslands, galaxies, and seas.There is wandering, there is staying, there is tenderness, and there is sadness and sorrow.

But it seems that these are not enough, and it seems that there are already too many, no priority, no priority.He felt that his emotions seemed to have cracked a dangerous gate, and many signs that had been hidden in the past became more and more intense, and many fierce collisions intensified.

For the first time in what seemed like a long time, he felt himself hit the ground.

His "The Wall" was written from a bird's-eye view.At that time, he might have been a cloud in the sky, a crow on a high-voltage wire, or a surveillance camera by the wire coil, looking at everything at his feet with pity and arrogance.

But this time was different, he became a piece of mottled paint on the wall, a piece of gravel on the side of the road, or a grain of sand on the foamy seashore.

His body was covered with dirt and dust, rain and sea wind, and he became so small and insignificant and yet not afraid at all.

He suddenly understood a line of the lyrics: because my illness is that I don't feel it.

He felt himself sinking into the melted tarmac, unable to move.The scorching sun burned his skin, exposing his fragile and ridiculous heart and self-esteem. He was watched, ridiculed, pitied, and carefully dug out and held in the palm of his hand.

He was a little sad, and felt that he was not sad for himself.

When it was almost dinner time, the phone rang again, Wen Yizhou cut it off without looking at it, but the other party kept calling.Wen Yizhou picked it up and found it was Sun Yanqi.

Sun Yanqi's voice was accompanied by noisy noise: "What are you doing? Hang up on me."

"Busy." Wen Yizhou said concisely.

Sun Yanqi asked curiously, "What are you busy with?"

"Writing songs," Wen Yizhou said, "I'm done."

"Eh, eh, eat or not..."

Only busy tone remains on the line.

Wen Yizhou's song writing process in retreat this time was very painful, but also very happy.Occasionally, he drowned in the overwhelming waves, and when he carved out the details, he seemed to be peeling off cocoons, destroying and rebirth.Except for two complaints from neighbors in the middle of the night because he forgot to close the soundproof door of the studio, he completed the work in one go without being disturbed and communicated with the outside world.

A few days later, in the early morning, he finally recorded the entire song without any prior notice or publicity, and just released it through his personal music account.

After completing this matter, it seemed that all the things that entangled him and troubled him were far away from him, and Wen Zhou fell headlong into the quilt and couldn't sleep.

Sun Yanqi was the first to see it.

He sent several messages to Wen Yizhou and made a phone call without waking anyone up, so he quickly sent the song to everyone in the band.Everyone reacted in the same way at first, which was a series of question marks.

But after everyone listened, they all turned into long ellipses.

This is not a pop song in the normal sense. The whole song is quite long, with nine bars.The song kicks off with a magnificent and depressing background sound, layered and progressive, covering the left and right channels.Immediately afterwards, light and cautious strings cut through the night sky-not violins, but guitars, with a touch of blues melancholy.

Then everything took a turn for the worse, with more intense emotions mixed in with the effect of the electronic keyboard, and it was not until the third bar that the human voice appeared for the first time.

Wen Yizhou is not a professional singer. Although his intonation is excellent, his breath and position of occurrence are not professional. However, these unfamiliarity and clumsiness are perfectly embedded in this song. every word of .But two quarters later, his voice was still overwhelmed by a noise similar to the roar of machinery on a construction site, and finally disappeared in the white noise of the city.

The song ushered in a brief blank for a few seconds, and then a gust of wind blew from far and near, and the distorted electric guitar solo hit his head and face—Sun Yanqi always knew that Wen Yizhou could play many instruments well It's pretty good, especially the strings. You can form a one-man band. I used to jokingly call him "Little Prince".But in fact, he rarely heard of Yizhou playing guitar, especially if there are professional guitarists in the band.But all the instruments, words, melody and mixing of this song were all done by Wen Yizhou, and the guitar player didn't think about it. It must have been recorded in separate tracks and then mixed together.

As the music progresses to a later stage, the meaning of the lyrics gradually becomes clear-this is no longer a song sung to a city, or even a song sung to a group of people.This is a song sung to a person.

When the song draws to a close, the vocals disappear again, and the melody releases a very strong but extremely restrained mourning, with a hint of relief and relief in it.This emotion engulfs every cell deep in the eardrum of the listener until the last syllable falls and fades out slowly, but the residual emotion still surrounds, leaving only the roaring silence.

After Sun Yanqi finished listening to the song, she suddenly felt that she didn't need to say anything.

On this side of the city, after a few hours, Wen Yizhou got up from the bed, went to take a shower in a dizzy state, finally felt the long-lost hunger, and devoured a meal of takeaway.

He didn't even have time to clean up the trash, so he put on his coat and rushed out of the house.He is like a stunned young man holding a plastic ring, eager to hand over his gift to the other party.

The author says:

The prototype of this song still comes from Pink Floyd, "Shineonyoucrazydiamond" was written by David Gilmour for the former members who left the group due to drug and mental reasons.