Time by ELO

Side 1

Electric Light Orchestra is one of my favorite bands. I grew up listening to them, so they carry a lot of nostalgia for me. As I’ve grown older and kept listening to them, however, I’ve found that their music is timeless. The feelings their music inspires are still as potent, if not more, than when I listened to them as a kid.

Naturally, my favorite album in the world is Time (1981) by ELO. There’s something about this album that gets me every time, no matter how many months or years have gone by between listening sessions. Its meaning has bloomed in my mind since I’ve become an adult and found myself more familiar with feelings of regret and wishing for happier, more secure times.

The album begins with a dream-like prologue. When I listen to it, I feel like I’m in a state between waking and sleep, dream and reality are blended and confused in a swirl of sweet memories, past regrets, fervent wishes, and lost loves. It’s the perfect introduction to the journey on which I’m about to embark, as it fades flawlessly into Twilight.

Twilight has this incredible driving rhythm that charges my veins with musical sparks. As the first full song on the album, it creates a great first impression: I’m going to be dancing and singing along within the next 30 seconds, and this session will extend throughout the entire album. As is typical to ELO, Twilight blends electronic elements in with rock and classical, creating an irresistible fusion of musical genius.

As Twilight fades, distant singing is heard (another dream-like element to the album) before Yours Truly, 2095 slowly meanders into view. This song gives me the feeling of talking through a wall to someone I miss completely, or scratching at that ache of nostalgia amidst the age of convenience and technology. The resounding phrase in Yours Truly, 2095 is, “Is that what you want?”, as if the writer is asking whether we really want to stray so far from all that’s comfortable and known. Do we really want to experience distance between what we were and what we’re becoming, who or what we’ve loved and what we’re striving to love in the present moment? Is this technology really serving us, or is it hindering us?

After Yours Truly, 2095 closes in its epic fashion, Ticket to the Moon sidles in like a cool breeze at midnight on a full moon. The ache for a time machine is palpable as the gloomy piano melody sweeps me into a side dimension of the dream realm. Let’s go to the moon and quietly watch while the earth turns slowly, floating, morose, finite, and soothing. This song holds within it the jarring feeling of one era ending and another beginning right before our eyes and the feelings of helplessness that accompany this sensation.

The Way Life’s Meant to Be is next, beginning with an almost flamenco-style guitar foundation. This song makes me feel lost somewhere between Margaritaville and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. It speaks of love and home lost, something that inevitably occurs after living on this planet for so long. The question asked frequently in this song is, “Is this the way life’s meant to be?” Is life only about feeling lost in time constantly? Are we all just grieving, walking time-capsules wondering when our time of glory will resurface?

From The Way Life’s Meant to Be, I freefall into Another Heart Breaks. A spacey, dream-like tune, Another Heart Breaks echoes the muted footfalls and heartbeats of a person traveling this life with the open wound of a broken heart. No words can really describe this feeling; therefore, hardly any words are spoken during this song. The intangible power of music is king in this song, as it leads me down the dark and dreary path of fresh loneliness and a mind addled with melancholy, drenched in grief. In short, this song is heart-breakingly beautiful—mind-blowing, even.

Stay tuned next Monday for Side 2 of Time.