Eryn Allen Kane's Compassion for the World

When I count all my blessings, blessings
I can't even be sad any more, can't even be sad any more
When I count all my blessings, blessings
My heart still hurts for the world that I know, the world that I know

Last week, I was walking down a street. Suburban and lonely, anything from the frantic thrall of the city. Still, like the remnants of a virus left over, lingering in the blood cells, I felt a bit uneasy. The world with its steady granite and ludicrous grass. The streets engaged in their regular business of nothing whatsoever. I was immersed in contemplation. I was lost in the problem of me. Streets are like life. The streets we step in are like currents guiding us downstream. When I was a child, we used to watch saturated cartoons of bumbling cowboys and inept sheriffs. In them, I gained a very strange conception of the Wild West. In those streets, life and death lay in the gap of a second, the arc of a bullet, in the half-blink of an eye. That time period springs to mind the suffering of the African Diaspora. In similar streets pop up many childish thoughts. Many naive conceptions concerning the struggles of Atticus Finch. Many silly ideas concerning the events of MLK. Yet, within those ahistorical and simplistic imaginings lay a somewhat approximable truth. The truth is those events contained a significant amount of cruelty. The history of those men and women is marked with ruthlessness and suffering.

For Eryn Allen Kane, the ruthlessness of the world is only more reason for compassion. The cold metal and frigid waters of pain serve only as kindling for the heart. Eryn Allen Kane's 2015 song Have Mercy echoes a prayer and protest for the world. It distils the long, aged years of the powerful righteous indignance of Soul. It takes on the deep emotions of gospel supplication. It wraps the sombre, all-pervading gravity of the hymnal choir. It takes all these to their purest essence. Its name is perfect. The lines are stilted and circular, flowing into one another, creating many perspectives. It is not merely a song for the world, it is a song for the self, downtrodden and weak. Fast recovering but still frail. It is not just being overwhelmed by the oceans of suffering in the world but being lost in the seas and stasis of self. It is not just an exhortation of compassion to others, but a struggle to remember the reason for meaning in life. It is not just a righteous and selfless fight for the world, it is a vulnerability. It is a plea for protection, like a little child hiding their fear under cold sharpened eyes. It is not just a sombre echo, but a crying of tears, a wordless lament. Even in strong statements, there must be weaknesses. When there is a calling of blessings, it must be curtailed with an "if". When there is a remembrance of identity, it must be curtailed with a "will, you?". As the song progresses, the lines become more stilted, intersecting and layered. There is a plea mixed within a strong determination. There is a strong faith hidden under an insecure supplication. The song hits the peak of its crescendo. The whirlpool gets bigger, leaving Kane and her message in the centre. It is in Eryn Allen Kane's need for compassion that we understand the reason for her compassion to the world. It is only in those filled with suffering, we see an indomitable will to help others.

Religion appears as the crux of Eryn Allen Kane's work. In Christianity, the word for someone who has compassion for the world is "Saint". The one whose heart aches for humanity is God. So in their compassion for the world, the saint becomes an image of God. This cry for mercy, this weakness becomes resolve. This constant confronting of and compassion for self is the lynchpin. The strength by which one can stand up for the world. This face-to-face with our incapacity becomes the motivation by which we love others. This truth becomes the commiserating choir matching every tone spoken by the mouth.

Religious music sometimes appears empty. This is not due to bad intentions from the artists. Instead, it is a lack of willingness to engage with the unattractive aspects of self. It is a reluctance to engage with the complex relationship of faith and doubt. It is a hesitancy to engage with the ramifications of total dependence on God. It is a lack of understanding of the self. It exhibits a lack of expression on the gravity of who God is. Neither expressing man nor God, it is difficult to strike the heart of humanity. Rather, such works appear inauthentic. Have Mercy is a song that speaks to the heart. As a religious song, it becomes a model for expression that is substantial and true. It commiserates with the suffering of those below. Above, it acknowledges the life-saving supernatural grace of God.

Music serves as something transformative. In itself, it substantializes the concept of change. As a means of compassion and truth, music has always served as a power to transform the world. In Kane, I cannot help but be reminded of the holy prophets of the Old Covenant. Beset by grief yet beset by hope. It is not the perfection, but the human and the imperfect in the saint that ministers to the world. A true song is not aesthetic. It is not superficial. True music is timeless.

We try, we try
We try, we try
Said we try
And we try
And we try
And we try

For Kane, music serves as a tool for extending compassion to the world. To let people know they are not alone. That they are understood. That they matter. That there is someone there caring for them. With music, we shift paradigms not merely in art but in conceptions of the human self. We conceptualize the spirit and struggle of humanity in lines of abstract melody. Song becomes like sunlight softening the stone of our hearts. Like Kane, we find understanding in our admittance of weakness. Continuous in our resolve to exercise compassion. We become like beacons illuminating our communities.