Go Along
“Follow, I follow, to and from harm
Follow, I follow, snooze the alarm”
It’s fun to think about a story from various perspectives. In the folktale, Henny Penny, I naturally gravitated toward thinking about this storyline from the perspective of the main character, mostly because I can tend to feel like the sky is falling, too. But what was going through Goosey Loosey’s mind? How about Turkey Lurkey? Have you ever thought to put yourself in Ducky Lucky’s shoes? Gander Lander’s?? No you haven’t. Because you only think about yourself. (Just kidding. I like to make that joke whenever I get the chance.)
The thing is, I can relate to Gander Lander and Turkey Lurkey more than I’d like to admit; maybe even more than I can relate to Henny Penny. And I think that the world is full of Goosey Looseys and Ducky Luckys. Perhaps we’ve even evolved to be this way to some degree. Let me explain.
Comfort in Numbers
I talked in an earlier blog post about the second hand embarrassment I feel for Henny Penny’s character. I would feel exposed and lonely if I were the only one who knew about impending doom, and if it was up to me to convince everyone. Compare that to Turkey Lurkey’s perspective. In the versions of the folktale I’m referencing, Turkey Lurkey was the final character to join the gang before they met up with Foxy Loxy. So from Turkey Lurkey’s point of view, he had a whole group of friends telling him the same thing with a unified voice: the sky is falling, we’re going to tell the king. At that point, the easier thing for Turkey Lurkey to do is to just go along with his friends. It would take more courage and more internal fortitude for him to question the validity of their claims, and to demand some type of proof from them. I’ll admit that I am looking at this through the lens of my own personality, and I tend to be one who feels threatened by conflict and avoids confrontation whenever possible, so this is why I imagine myself doing exactly what Turkey Lurkey did. If you’re an Enneagram 8, perhaps you see that as lunacy. (And I would admire you for that.)
But let’s assume that I’m not the only one who would do what Turkey Lurkey did, and let’s even go a step further to assume that that’s what most people would do. I can explain this response easily: relational trust is a strong force. It is so strong that it can override other important things — like critical thinking, danger analysis, and even survival instincts.
And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.
We have an innate instinct to belong. We, as humans, (and turkeys and ducks and geese, I suppose) are communal creatures. We long to belong to one another, to a group, to a family, to an institution, to a country, etc. We feel a greater sense of safety when we are in the presence of those we love and trust and who love and trust us, as opposed to when we are out in the cold by ourselves. There is a safety in numbers. Obviously this is true in the physical sense, but it’s also true in other ways. For example, our own critical thinking skills are not without flaws — sometimes we are wrong. It is to our benefit to borrow from the critical thinking skills and discernment of those around us. We are used to deferring to other peoples’ judgment when we are not sure of our own. This is generally very helpful for us.
“Look, here’s a new friend — really nice guy
Guidance, protection — he wouldn’t lie”
A New Friend?
Just as our critical thinking skills are not without flaws, our instinct to belong is also not without flaws. Turkey Lurkey turned off his critical thinking skills in favor of trusting his friends. Okay, fine. They’re his friends, could be innocuous. But then enters Foxy Loxy…
Let’s think of this from Cocky Locky’s perspective, since he was the first friend to join Henny Penny on her journey. Cocky Locky watched as Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, Gander Lander, and Turkey Lurkey joined in, too. If Cocky Locky kept up with his pattern of taking what someone says at face value, and just going along with the mission of the crowd, then he would see Foxy Loxy as a continuation of the pattern: here’s a new friend to add to our numbers, and also, Foxy Loxy knows a shortcut, so we should follow him to get there faster!
Moral of the Story
Do not look for me to tell you what is the moral of the story. I did not write this folktale, I only borrowed its themes for this collection of songs. But since this is my blog, and I’m talking about my song, I will tell you what I think.
“I have never lost anything that wasn’t worth losing when I chose to follow my conscience rather than go along with the crowd.”
There were years of my life where I was like Goosey Loosey, Gander Lander, and the bunch. Blindly trusting people who carried themselves with confidence or exerted themselves as authorities. From time to time, alarms would go off in my brain that said, “wait, are you sure you can trust what they just said?!” I would snooze those alarms. Sometimes I snoozed those alarms because I was too lazy to course correct, but mostly I snoozed those alarms because the cost of going against the group was too high, and I wasn’t willing to pay it. But the times of my life where I did break from the pattern of just going along with the crowd — those were defining moments for me. Yes, going against the group caused me to lose the security that the group provided me, and I even found myself out in the cold here and there. But I have never lost anything that wasn’t worth losing when I chose to follow my conscience rather than going along with the crowd. Wouldst that Turkey Lurkey had the courage to ask the tough questions. Wouldst that Goosey Loosey had the mental fortitude to stand up to someone who has situated themselves as the leader. Wouldst that Ducky Lucky had the confidence to know that he would be alright on his own, without the safety blanket of the crowd.
As you are navigating the world in the year of our Lord two thousand and twenty four, remember to verify facts rather than taking what someone says at face value. Don’t be afraid to stand up to someone who is acting sus. Question those who position themselves as an authority. Sometimes it’s wise to trust the crowd, and other times it’s terribly foolish. Be alert, pay attention, and don’t just go along.
Musical Things
Honestly, I am really proud of this song, musically. In its first iteration, it was part of the songwriting challenge I did last year, New Song November. Originally, it was a song in 5/8 about my cat Winston, and how much he sleeps. You can watch Sleepy Cat on YouTube if you want. But please, indulge me while I tell you all the things I’m excited about with this song, musically…
My favorite thing about Go Along is that it’s in 5/8. Here’s my tip for writing in 5/8: it’s very similar to 6/8. Start with a 6/8 strumming/picking pattern, and make a slight alteration to drop a beat each measure, and then go from there. It’s way easier to feel it that way rather than counting in sets of 2 and 3, or counting to 5 each measure, in my opinion.
I intentionally sang this song very breathy, because I wanted it to be really easy to listen to, and even hypnotizing. I wanted to lull the listener into a sense of safety with the pretty textures, but also indicate through the asymmetrical meter and harmonic dissonance that something is a little bit off.
Thank you to Kathryn Fox, who came in to play viola and violin on this song (on very short notice!). I had notated out three viola parts and some ideas for a viola solo, pictured above (which, per Kathryn’s suggestion, became a violin solo instead — good thinking, Kathryn), and we went from there. It made for a fun — and quick — afternoon of recording strings!
As a side note, I really enjoyed getting to notate out all these parts because there were lots of fun challenges music theory-wise: it’s in 5/8, in the key of D-flat, and I notated the viola parts in alto clef. Don’t tempt me with a good time!!
I had been excited to use violas instead of violins because sometimes when you get lots of violins together, they can sound pretty shrill (just a comment about the instrument itself, has nothing to do with the ability of the player). But I didn’t realize until we were in the thick of recording dozens of viola lines that a bunch of violas together can sound pretty goose-like (again, just a comment about the timbre of violas in general). Apparently cellos have their own issue, and it’s that they can sound like a bunch of saws. Ha! All told, it felt pretty fitting that I had already planned on using the goose-like string instrument rather than the saw-like or the shrill one. Thank you to the spirits of Goosey Loosey and Gander Lander for your guiding presence.
Maybe my very favorite addition to this song was something I didn’t write, nor did it ever enter my brain to write: the bass line. Bryan Vanderpool wrote that line, and he played it on upright bass, and then doubled it on a semi-hollow guitar. This line adds so much motion, in an effortless way. Great job, Bryan (as always)!
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