The music that made me: Will Wood

Standing in my secondary school playground, I heard my friends talk about this artist called Will Wood, laughing at the absurdity of his song ‘I/ Me/ Myself’, which at the time appeared to us to be the epitome of existential crises. Coming back from school, I made a point of listening to his work; initially listening as a joke, I was drawn into his music and, after digging further into his corpus, discovered the products of a musical genius whose unapologetic approach to life and music gave me the strength needed to live my life along terms authentic to me, not purely to satisfy the demands of others.

To me, his work addresses the insanity of daily life, which I feel is too regularly brushed over. We wake up and sleep every day and then die — how come we don’t all find life insane and laugh at it more? Wood’s humour, partly due to his job as both a stand-up comedian and musician, expresses this absurdity and addresses fundamental issues of identity and fitting in, which shaped me by giving me the courage to live life to my own standards and appreciate its absurdity. I strongly believe that if there ever was a black hole which consumed all creativity in this world and produced a person with creative genius from combined raw life experiences and a soul-crushing sense of humour, Wood would be the result of this.

Three of Wood’s songs have given me the confidence to live life unapologetically and laugh at it in the process: ‘Memento Mori’, ‘2^nd 2eight 2eer’, and ‘White Noise.’ These songs are very clearly by the same artist, yet they express emotions as diverse as the colours in a rainforest.

Standing in a chapel made of human bones in Evora, Portugal, on a family holiday, this song’s impact on me was immediately evident

Wood’s song ‘Memento Mori’ would aspire to the darker colours of this metaphorical rainforest, as illustrated by the morbid title of the song which accurately depicts the song’s focus: a reminder that death is inevitable, and we all must face it one day. I find that this song has shaped me by applying matter-of-fact humour to the morbid fact of our own mortality, helping me come to terms with it.

Standing in a chapel made of human bones in Evora, Portugal, on a family holiday, this song’s impact on me was immediately evident. Its laid-back jazz vibe combined with high sparkly piano notes juxtaposes the morbidity of the lyrics, which employ dark humour to craft a comedy song about death. Listening after coming back from this horrific chapel, I found that Wood’s music enabled me to view the experience as not shocking or horrific but rather a fact of life which we can’t avoid and so must accept and live life accordingly, applying hope like the positive backing to the morbid lyrics — the facts of life.

This is demonstrated perspicuously in his line “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but something will eventually.” A clear example of Wood’s intelligent wordplay, this expresses a refutation of the common trope that you can get over everything in everyday life and setbacks will “make you stronger”— in a sarcastic, darkly humorous way, Wood reminds us that death cannot make us stronger, it just ends us. Some hope is offered at the end of the song — “so if you only have one chance, you ought a try your best to live as you like… one day you’re going to die!” Whilst the fact that this is followed by manic laughter and whooping shows the rather more humorous element of the song, I find his lyrics strangely hopeful: among all his dry, matter-of-fact reminders of our own mortality, he reminds us that we have to take the reins in life and shape it as we like; after all, we only have “one chance”, and if we don’t we know the ultimate outcome: death.

This slightly morbid insanity is also embraced in Wood’s song ‘2^nd 2eight 2eer’, something reflected in the song’s title: at first glance, a combination of letters and numbers, but upon further inspection, a title which should probably make sense. The song itself embraces wholeheartedly the insanity of life; for me, this song has helped shape me by showing me that you can accept who you are, even if that is what you see as odd and different to everybody else.

For Wood, being autonomous is acceptable, even if it means submitting to devilish persuasions; this gives me a refreshing sense of freedom each time I encounter these lyrics, as they show that life can be lived however you want

The lyrics again mix wordplay and humour most enticingly. “The Devil made me do it / but I also kinda wanted to” — this shows that Wood has control over his actions; in rebellion against what’s expected of him — to deny the advances of the Devil — he wholeheartedly embraced the Devil’s suggestions and went ahead with it. For Wood, being autonomous is acceptable, even if it means submitting to devilish persuasions; this gives me a refreshing sense of freedom each time I encounter these lyrics, as they show that life can be lived however you want.

This insanity is acknowledged with his line, which he sings with utmost speed, “Some days I’m glad that I am a madman, and I’d rather be that than an amicable anima, mild-mannered cannibal.” A madman, what Wood sees himself as, is preferable to the expected social form: a “mild-mannered cannibal” —  a brilliant juxtaposition, showing both the docility of conforming individuals and, within that docility, a horrific yet accepted social form — that of a “cannibal”. Instead of embracing conformity with all its negative trimmings, Wood identifies as a “madman” and leaves the song quickly before judgement can be passed on him, singing gaily that he is “a tourist passing through, well that was fun, goodbye!” When faced with doubts over my actions or feelings of being an imposter in a Russell Group uni, Wood’s passionate embrace of being a “madman” over the conforming “mild-mannered cannibal” is inspiring, as it shows that conformity can be destructive and alternative identities are available. When faced with “cannibalism” as the price to pay for conformity, I’d much rather join Wood in championing the identity of “madman”.

If the previous two songs address the dark and mad elements of life and give me the courage to deal with and accept them, Wood’s song ‘White Noise’ is a reassuring ukelele ballad which has shaped me by showing me that everything will be ok and that your thoughts, even when they seem dark and terrifying, don’t define you. You still have the power to shape your identity separate from these thoughts. During stressful times in life, this song has acted as a gateway to a kind of nirvana, showing that peace can be found amongst the overwhelm of your own thoughts.

To begin with, the gentle ukelele chords swing you into an almost lullaby-style song, creating an intimate atmosphere as if you are sitting in a room with Wood, listening to him strum and sing. Throughout the song, Wood ties metaphors into concise commentaries on life.

Wood’s work has been essential in shaping my sense of self-confidence and giving me the courage to take the reins and shape my own identity, even if that means making a pact with the devil or becoming a madman

His song begins: “They paint the walls with colours that you’re not meant to notice, beiges and browns, off-whites and grayscales, fluorescent lights that shine on the eggshell ground, now you’re lying face down, you blend into the background, of white noise”. This plays on the idea of the colour white, describing its various shades and the feeling of numbness that accompanies it; the notion of a painful, white eggshell ground cutting into your face as you lie on it takes away from the serenity associated with the shade and instead implies pain and suffering. When experiencing painful thoughts or feelings, this lyricism, in a strange way, affirms these thoughts, painting an image in my mind of my thoughts being like eggshells, cutting into my being in the white room of my own mind, within which I can disappear. Strangely, the recognition of these thoughts is reassuring.

The chorus is performed in a singsong way, with notes flitting over one another like the waves of the ocean. “White noise, if you listen close between the waves, white noise, you can hear the ocean through your wake…” For me, these lyrics tell the listener to pause and try to see through their jumble of thoughts, creating “white noise” and find an ocean – some clarity and peace in their mind.

This struggle culminates in the final line of the song, the most powerful one for me, which says “All of the things that you think and then think about thinking, I know it’s hard, but they’re not who you are, they’re white noise.” Especially when dealing with intrusive thoughts or simply an amalgamation of unwanted thoughts from the stresses of daily life, this ending reminds us that we are not just our thoughts; we are a whole person and our thoughts are simply something we experience, not what shape us. Again, this empowering song has given me the courage to ignore unwanted thoughts when necessary and take control of my own identity. It has shaped me by giving me the courage to live and shape who I am even when faced with painful thoughts or feelings, as the other two songs and the majority of Wood’s work have done.

In summary, Wood’s work has been essential in shaping my sense of self-confidence and giving me the courage to take the reins and shape my own identity, even if that means making a pact with the devil or becoming a madman.