Youth is drunk in the nameless arms, wasted by generous laughter and gathering, but can't get on the right platform. This is one of the lyrics. Take a look at the analysis of this song!

Chapter 1

Just be old, don't wake up alone.

You are eager to leave.

I just have nowhere to go.

When I first listened to this song, I thought, "Ideal Thirty", what does this name mean?

Look at the comments below, some people say

"You can hear what kind of mood you have, just listen attentively. This is a song that you dare not sing casually. "

Later, I kept circulating all afternoon, thought for a long time and finally gave myself a satisfactory explanation.

Frankly speaking, I don't want to define this 30-year-old as a mature 30-year-old, as if a teenager is mature and enters middle age to play and sing his dreams. It seems possible.

But I don't think it's good enough.

I want it to look less dull.

I think of the state when things are about to mature but not yet mature.

From this point of view, the ideal of 30 days, that is, the pursuit of ideal, is almost the same, at arm's length. The lyrics and the artistic conception inside are also faint memories and summaries of the past and indifferent to the future. I think this is the state of being at arm's length, and it is a sign that a person is about to mature but incomplete. The bass is really nice. It is a kind of indifference that faded from the desperate struggle when you just pursued your ideal, adding a sense of relief, rationality and calmness.

"Ideal 30", the words in every sentence are singled out, and they are all sentences that social software can sign. I'm incompetent. When I first read the lyrics, it was the same as the title of the song, so I didn't understand it very well. I didn't know until I watched it for the second time and the third time ... I finally got a general appearance, as if I was singing a story about girls, love and vagrancy, but I was still uncertain. I went to Zhihu to see Tang Yingfeng, a lyricist's own understanding of the lyrics, and found that this is a wonderful song that has been collected for half an hour. Because the song was online, I didn't pay much attention to it and didn't modify it much. However, how many backgrounds and stories are needed behind such words, written casually? After listening carefully, I simply played the stories of white dogs in plain life, those sad or heartbreaking stories, just like hair blown by static electricity, smoothed and precipitated in ordinary words and songs.

chapter two

Never see children listening to music at night again.

A monologue in a hurry

Grind it into tape.

Withered feelings are crushed into years.

The first question I want to ask you: Did you feel that you suddenly grew up for a moment?

Share your own experience.

I don't remember what time it is. I was particularly sad when a good friend of mine told me the news of his father's death. Because from beginning to end, he told me his story in a faint tone, and the words were extremely common. She said that one day on the mountain, there was no signal on her mobile phone, and when she went down the mountain, she suddenly found that she missed more than a dozen calls. He said that at that time, he had no idea that his father had left like this, and his relatives couldn't get through to her, so he didn't even see his father for the last time. Later, he typed many words on QQ and sent them to me. He said, but that's life. Unexpected news always catches you off guard. Some people catch it, some people miss it, and it takes a lot of effort to catch it, and most people will get hurt themselves. Those who can't catch it should squat down on the ground to pick it up. When they picked it up, they found that things were broken, broken and unrecoverable.

I was particularly sad at that time. Obviously, his father died, and I seem to be more sad than him.

He said, don't cry.

I didn't believe that time could completely change a person before, but now I realize it. In recent years, I feel that my tears are getting lower and lower, and many words are completely out of touch with the focus plane. Yesterday, I saw a well-received documentary about South Korea on the subscription number: Dear, please don't cross that river and shoot the love life of an old couple who is nearly a hundred years old, which truly records the story of grandpa's death and leaving grandma alone. Estelle has also sent screenshots in her circle of friends before. I think it's hard enough to see those illustrated explanations. I don't think I can watch this movie at all. If I say this, some people will think that I am too melodramatic. It doesn't matter. Everyone's experiences and stories are very different. There is no such thing as empathy in this world.

In recent years, especially after I passed 16 years old, things that I didn't dare to think about before have happened one after another in my life, and I can't escape. You can't imagine that you have to send two old people away at once in two weeks. It's the kind of suddenness that doesn't even give you sad time. There is no choice but to accept it. It seems that relatives, friends and teachers I haven't seen for two years have unconsciously dimmed my life forever. Now, I am afraid to look the old man in the eye in the face of loss and death.

And I don't like crying and ups and downs more and more.

When I was a child, I thought it was funny to watch actors and actresses who cried when they opened their mouths on TV. Later, when I was older, I felt I could empathize with them and share their joys and sorrows.

When I was young, blood was the most important label. Dare to do and make trouble is the inevitable action of teenagers.

Just like those years, Ke Jingteng shouted to Shen Jiayi in the rain, "Only a fool will like you for so long."

Another example is To Youth. On the eve of graduation, after being drunk in a restaurant, * * recited the sentence, "I will accompany you for 30,000 drunk laughs, and there is no need to sue for parting." Say that finish, a table of people burst into tears, no * * shape.

In the process of growing up (it seems that maturity is more appropriate here), we all want to spare no effort to express our inner feelings. This mood has not yet risen to the point where it matters. Whenever we don't like something, we don't like to put up with it. We love our parents, quarrel with the people we love the most, and fight with those who hurt ourselves. At that time, we knew that there was no need to hide our joy and sadness, probably because we were still young. No matter what decisions we made and what the consequences were, we would be forgiven and have a way out.

But slowly, I began to feel that crying and shouting were particularly melodramatic, and that my feelings that I freely vented became particularly worthless.

chapter three

No more meaningless feelings

Want to understand.

The place where the dream collapsed is now covered with moss.

Hearing this, I heard a trace of melancholy.

At the end of the college entrance examination this year, Estelle wrote an article * *: Our respective ideal lives (click to recall).

The second question I want to ask you is: Do you live the life you want?

I asked my mother this question more than once. She gave me a long answer and was deeply impressed. "I want to tell you that these things are really not what you said. You can't get most of what you want, and you won't think so if you can. I graduated from the literature department in those days, but now you see that what I did in the enterprise after graduation is not a job completely out of touch with my major. If I had left here and chosen to be a teacher like your father, I might have been more suitable for myself than my present job, at least with a better salary. But now you ask me if I regret it? I have no regrets. Since you can't change it, accept it. It's been half my life. I'll solve it when I come. Whenever you insist on taking things that don't belong to you and things that you can't get, you just don't understand. "

That night, we ate kebabs at a barbecue stall outside. After saying this, my mother asked my father for another bucket of draft beer. My father teased me and said, "Look, son, your mother is a little excited tonight."

Later, I understood the meaning of what my mother said more and more.

I don't know when "ideal" has become a luxury, but it can't be played from a distance. We will grow old soon, because youth runs desperately in our bodies. I often wonder what the world is like, why people who like singing drive cars, and why people who like writing move bricks. It seems that everyone can't get what he wants, the ideal he wants, the life he wants, the partner he wants, the future he wants and everything he wants, both reasonable and unreasonable. Sometimes we don't even know if we are too dissatisfied or if the world is really distorted.

Everyone's birth is the first picture of life, and subsequent achievements or accomplishments are based on it. No matter whether the flowers are good or bad, as long as you start writing, you can't stop and can't erase them, so life is actually an involuntary thing. The world will constantly remind you to be mature. He is not as troublesome as seven aunts and eight aunts. He only used one thing to achieve his goal. If you want to survive, eat and live, everything is inseparable from money, so this is his magic weapon.

Someone in Zhihu wrote this comment:

Life He often secretly sends it to our necks when we look up at the sky. When the beautiful clouds disperse, we will see that what we yearn for is so bad, so we begin to hold the ideal of camping, stand on tiptoe and run all the way to the territory named after success. But when I finally approached him, I was strangled by my own ideals and expectations. So we are fixed between success and failure at our fingertips, and those who think highly of themselves call this life a bleak life.

Everyone likes himself. When you really like the world, you may really like it. And we, in the end, also can't leave much youth, just like the song sings:

"Youth is drunk in the nameless arms, wasted by generous laughter and gathering, but not on the right platform."

Brief introduction of Chen Hongyu

Chen Hongyu,1June 65438+1October 08, 989 was born in Ergun, Hulunbeier City, Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region. He is a China male folk singer and graduated from Inner Mongolia Normal University with a major in news editing and production.

20 15, Chen Hongyu founded the music organization "Music of the Masses"; In the same year, he released his solo singles "Song of Walking" and "Ideal 30". 2065438+March 2006 1 day, released his first solo music album "Poetry Radio under Smoke"; After that, he held a "tossing" national Live House cycling tour with Ma Yuyang; In April of the same year, she was shortlisted for the "Chinese Music Media Award" with her album "Poetry Radio under Smoke" and won the outstanding album award in spring. 2065438+released the second solo album "Like a Young Man" on March 6, 2007; In the same year, he won the Best Newcomer of the Year Award at the first CMA Music Awards Ceremony of the Singing Working Committee. On 20th18, the third solo original album "With Yuan Ye" was released.

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