Monotony is a misnomer. Misleading titles often make musicians and listeners miss the point of the music being made. I used the letter M a lot because I figured anything other than this is less depressing than this song. Except Willis Earl Beal’s life. But it’s with a bit of historical background that this incredibly simple song comes to real vibrant, shining life.
I really mean simple. There is a guitar playing no more than two notes at a time, with a voice over what sounds like a handheld sound recorder.
Take a journey with me to Wikipedia — the story of Mr. Beal is incredible. A medical discharge from the Army led to a stretch of homelessness in New Mexico. He would also leave self-illustrated flyers around the town in the hope of finding a girlfriend. His recordings were left in public spaces, and that is how he was first discovered.
Beal’s music is hauntingly beautiful. “Monotony” is beautiful in the same sense that a quiet, lonely life is beautiful, in the same way that a car wreck can be beautiful. It’s because of this overbearing sadness that the beauty is forced to outshine the overly simplistic music. His voice is beautiful (more in the way that Marvin Gaye’s voice is beautiful, not in the way that a car crash is beautiful), and his lyrics are poignant:
“They ask me how do you do?
I tell them that I don’t know
They said you go get a clue
I ask ’em where do I go?”
The old saying is “misery loves company,” but Willis Earl Beal’s music begs the question: what if you’ve got no one to be miserable with?