A fragment of Michael Stipe’s speech (from 12 years ago!) for Nirvana’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction that’s stuck with me for some time:
Nirvana captured lightning in a bottle. And now, per the dictionary—off the Internet—in defining “lightning in a bottle” as, “Capturing something powerful and elusive, and then being able to hold it and show it to the world.”
It’s that lighting in a bottle bit that gets me. Lightning striking the ground isn’t all that uncommon, happening roughly 37 million times each year. Being struck by lightning? That’s one in a million odds. And if, hypothetically, you were actually trying to capture lightning in some sort of vessel, I’d imagine the timing, location, and skill of catching the strike is even less likely.
That’s one of the (many) reasons I’m so fascinated by The Beatles, particularly their earliest albums. Studios then were obviously not like studios today. Rather than having an infinite number of audio layers and overdubs at your disposal, it took a perfect performance from several individuals together to create a masterpiece. The first few Beatles albums were nothing more than live performances.
Think of all the lightning that was captured:
- “I Want to Hold Your Hand”
- “Twist & Shout”
- “Love Me Do”
- “Can’t Buy Me Love”
- “Eight Days a Week”
…and on and on and on and…
It’s not just music. Like the catch. An inspired painting. A celebrated speech. An appliance in nearly every household.
Some captured lightning is spontaneous. I’d say most is the outcome of lots of work paired with being in the right time and place to make something happen. It looks accidental but rarely is.