Music is a wonderful, compelling, inspirational creature. It is capable of evoking memories, inciting emotion, telling stories, and expressing our praise/adoration/exaltation of that Higher Power that most everyone struggles to understand at some point in our Lives.
One of my favorite bands of all time is a Celtic-American Folk Rock band out of the mountains of North Georgia called Emerald Rose. The first time I heard them was at a huge Sci-Fi convention in Atlanta. They were on the Concourse, I was merely passing through until I heard the lyrics “Never underestimate a Woman with the Goddess in her eyes!” blasting from across the room.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“What is this? What? Who is this band? I must know!” I seemed to say as I stared intently at the kilted, mullet bearing men on the small stage in front of me. So, I promptly claimed a corner of carpet for my caboose and, as is my habit, obsessively found out all that I could possibly find out about the hunky-fun men that are Emerald Rose.
In my quest to be their “#1 Fan” I attended MANY live shows. One of their songs, “Freya, Shakti” is their spin on a Pagan classic. The Goddess Chant.
Never heard it? Here it goes:
Isis, Astarte, Rhiannon, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Innana.
We all come from the Goddess and to Her we shall return.
Like a drop of rain flowing to the Ocean.
The boys of Emerald Rose re-envisioned the classic, adding different names for the Divine Feminine, and a few lyrical gems of their own composing:
Freya, Shakti, Hathor, Rhiannon,
Rhea, Maat, the Morrigan
Freya, Shakti, Hathor, Rhiannon,
Rhea, Maat, the Morrigan
Chorus:
High, raising up the Goddess
Oh, fill my soul
High, raising up the spirit
Oh, make me whole
She is a woman crowned with a crescent
She is the mother of all that lives
She is the Earth that is spinning in starlight
She is the Goddess of all that is
I know a woman stirring a cauldron
She is the source of the heart’s deep core
I love a maiden dancing in moonlight
She is the key to the ancient lore
In the hours that I have spent watching Emerald Rose perform this song live I have seen one recurring phenomena that begins as soon as the first cords are strummed; all the Women get up to dance. All of them. I have witnessed Women from newborn to white-haired Crones stand & raise their arms to dance and sing along with this song (the newborns, obviously, being supported by their swaying, worshiping Mothers). I have participated in a spiral dance no less than 50 Women long to this song. I have seen Women ecstatic, arms raised, eyes closed, swaying & gyrating in ways that would make nuns squirm: all in worship of THE GODDESS WITHIN THEMSELVES that this song invokes. It is beautiful, inspiring, humbling, and arousing to witness.
Last night I saw the same thing happen. At a Rob Zombie concert.
I shit you not.
This time, it was Living Dead Girl. Yes indeed, every Woman in that Coliseum was singing, swaying, raising her hands, closing her eyes & absorbing it like a sponge. Many were raised on the shoulders of the Men they were with. Every Woman in that Coliseum just knew that he was singing to/about/for her. Every Woman in that Coliseum was worshiping the Goddess. The Death Goddess.
(Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?)
Living Dead Girl!
Rage in the cage
And piss upon the stage
There’s only one sure way
To bring the giant down
Defunct the strings
Of cemetery things
With one flat foot
On the devil’s wing
Crawl on me
Sink into me
Die for me
Living Dead Girl
Raping the geek
And hustling the freak
Like a hunchback juice
On a sentimental noose
Operation filth
They love to love the wealth
Of an SS Whore
Making scary sounds
Crawl on me
Sink into me
Die for me
Living Dead Girl
Cyclone Jack
Hallucinating Hack
Thinks Donna Reed
Eats dollar bills
Gold foot machine
Creates another fiend
So Beautiful,
They make you kill
Crawl on me
Sink into me
Die for me
Living Dead Girl
Blood on her skin
Dripping with Sin
Do it again
Living Dead Girl
Wikipedia lists 55 Death Goddesses: Akka, Ala, Alaisiagae, Averna, Ayao, Belet-Seri, Chicomecoatl, Cihuacoatl, Dea Tacita, Eingana, Erecura, Ereshkigal, Freyja, Gefjon, Hel, Hina, Hine-nui-te-pō, Itzpapalotl, Ixtab, Izanami-no-Mikoto, Kali, Kalma, Kebechet, Laima, Larentina, Leinth, Libitina, Loviatar, Maman Brigitte, Mana Genita, Mania, Marzanna, Melinoe, Meng Po, Merau, Mictecacihuatl, The Morrígan, Morta , Neith, Nephthys, Nirṛti, Oya, Persipnei, Pinga, Proserpina, Rohe, Serket, Setesuyara, Tia, Tlazolteotl, Trebaruna, Yami, Żywie.
I know this isn’t all of Their names… but They were present last night, in some form or fashion, They were basking in the glowing, fiery, rocking passion of the sweaty crowd in that Coliseum. Last night, that smoldering pit of beer, sweat, and electric guitar was Their temple. Last night, I was awash and in awe of the raw primal energy that flowed around me through the singing; through the worship of a crowd that didn’t have a clue (at least on a conscious level) that that was what they were doing. It was strange. It was inspirational. It was exhilarating.
I haven’t seen Emerald Rose in about… oh, probably 3 years.
I think it’s time I paid them a visit.
