The delight of unexpected turns
There’s a magic in understanding one’s pattens and how to push beyond them—if only from time to time.
This week, I listened to a bunch of new music. One of my favorite discoveries was a track called ‘Beside Myself’ by Little Kid. It grabbed me pretty much instantly because it surprised me pretty much instantly. The verse melody is straightforward at first, repeating twice before bending in a direction I found unusual: a sudden yet compelling descending figure. Later, the arrangement shocks: woodwinds bursting across minimal folk rock guitar.
I adore these unexpected turns in all art. I don’t think I’ve ever been more floored by a novel than by the ending of Ian McEwan’s Atonement. The first time I heard ‘I’ve Seen All Good People’ by Yes, my little 17 year old brain flew open—I didn’t know rock music was allowed to be like that, all full of flutes and so many sharp, satisfying surprises. The 2023 PACKS record, Crispy Crunchy Nothing, became a quick favorite because the melodic choices made in its songs are excellent and totally not what I would have done.
Unexpected turns in art are not the only unexpected turns that bring me delight. I love the small choices we can make, either intentionally or otherwise, that lead to totally unpredicted outcomes. I love the flash decision to take a slightly different route home, which results in an invigorating conversation with a neighborhood friend you haven’t seen in ages. I love the ‘yes’ you say to a last minute invitation to a show that blows your mind. Gosh, I even love the stubborn, tiny tree growing out of a concrete building you might glimpse when following a different sight line down an oft-trodden sidewalk.
Of course, what’s unexpected is so personal, because it comes down to what you expect, and what you expect comes down to what you already know. And OF COURSE, the unexpected can be as much painful and unwelcome as it is delightful. But also, I do believe there’s a magic in understanding one’s pattens and how to push beyond them—if only from time to time.
So, this week, three memos on finding and/or making unexpected turns.
Big love,
Lucy
How to find and/or make unexpected turns
MEMO - Know where you usually go
Can you tune into your regular patterns? How strong is your sense of what you tend toward doing—in life, and in music. What is in your musical ‘bag o tricks’? What are the go-to chord progressions, structures, and melodic quirks you tend to return to, or lean into? Part of making unexpected turns is knowing what turns are usual, expected for you. I share an exercise that can help you start to map your life patterns, in this post about shaking up your ordinary orbits.
MEMO - Make room for randomness
Without making room for randomness, unexpected things still happen—maybe just not often enough. To make room for randomness means to leave slack time for mistakes, or boredom, or nothingness, or the suspension of judgment. This could look like under-scheduling just the tiniest bit, or creating more space around commitments for what comes up: more time on your commute so you can stop, or look, or ask, or participate. More time letting ‘medium’ ideas marinate.
MEMO - Navigate toward newness and/or experimentation
What would you usually do in a situation? Where does it usually lead you? When was the last time you did something different? Learning to notice when you’re repeating yourself and when it makes sense to try to steer yourself toward a different outcome is naturally situation changing. I’ve heard it called the George Constanza Rule: deliberately doing the opposite of what you’d usually do, just to see what changes.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments: What is your relationship to unexpected turns, in music and in life?