I have decided to change the way I post. Initially, I considered Substack as a viable medium to attract an international audience. However, upon reflection, I realized that my website is a more suitable platform. There, the audience can immediately access my work. Furthermore, I noticed that the type of writers who thrive on Substack often resemble Oprah Winfrey Tupperware authors, with clear niches and neatly defined target audiences. I was inundated with one nauseating piece after another, all meticulously following marketing formulas. It’s excruciating if literature is your passion.
Today, I am in the process of transforming the poem “Gum” into a love song.
Je bent een lekker ding.
Ik ga je een gum
voor je verjaardag geven.
Dan ga je me
vertwijfeld aankijken
met die romige oogjes van je
Romige oogjes
Romige oogjes
ooooooo
Romige oogjes
De grootste vlakgom
uit de hele winkel
heb ik voor jou
laten inpakken
Ik steek
mijn hand uit
Je zou in zwijm
willen vallen
Je zou mijn hand
uit willen gummen
Romige oogjes
Romige oogjes
Romige oogjes
The song captures the essence of love in an ostensibly simple gift: an eraser. This object, seemingly mundane and trivial, serves as a powerful symbol of the existential nature of love: the desire to both create and destroy. This paradox of love, a theme deeply ingrained in the human psyche, is masterfully rendered in the phrase, “You would want to erase my hand.” This implies a longing to both possess and obliterate, to shape the other according to one’s vision, reminiscent of Friedrich Nietzsche’s philosophies on will to power and creation.
I believe this is one of the finest love songs ever written, as it zooms in on the existential characteristics of love. You can hear echoes of Wilde’s “Each man kills the thing he loves,” but in an improved version: Anne-Fleur’s voice speaks longingly about erasing the other, with those ‘creamy eyes,’ one of the best alliterative constructs in Dutch, with its dual layer where both the fascist empire and butter resonate. One might think there is no connection between them, but the rise of mass agriculture and the exploitation of living beings went hand in hand.
Additionally, there is the entire conquest aspect of love, which here is linked to erasing/ the creative process. He wants to conquer you, but you want to erase him, binding anxiety and binding drive unite in the same motion.
The repetition of “Creamy eyes” creates a hypnotic effect, enhanced by the alliteration that makes the lines musical and rhythmic. This stylistic choice emphasizes the intensity and purity of the emotions expressed. The use of repetition in the chorus functions as a mantra, a mesmerizing echo of desire and fascination, drawing the listener into the depths of love.
The comparison between the eraser and the act of erasing with love and destruction is a masterstroke that portrays the complex dynamics of human relationships. The eraser, an object meant to remove mistakes, becomes in this context a symbol of power and control, a means to shape the beloved according to one’s vision. This process of erasing and rewriting reflects the constant changes and adjustments inherent in any relationship.
The song strongly reminds me of what I call the ‘Heroine period’ in international music, because of its hypnotic nature. My mastering techniques have recently improved significantly; I have developed a unique technique where I use a gater as a compressor and combine it with pure mu-compression. Another year of learning, and I believe I will be able to operate at top level.
By the way, what struck me enormously yesterday: the mastering of Cure songs is actually not that great. And the mastering I hear in Turkish music is so top-notch: if you are looking for true masters, you have to turn to the Turks, really.
“Few born for the yellow / Television Room” – Martinus Benders, 2024
