"Miles Away" by Years Around the Sun: A Tale of Two Versions

There's a beautiful song on the soundtrack of "Castles in the Sky," a Taylor Steele movie that documents surfing adventures around the world. The song, "Miles Away" by Years Around the Sun, stands out for many reasons, not least of which is its existence in two distinct versions. The second, an acoustic version, was created following the first and featured in a Corona commercial. The lyrics were adjusted for this second rendition, practically flipping the song's meaning on its head.

I have a personal preference for the first version, as featured in "Castles in the Sky." At first listen, it presents as a lovely introspective piece, adventurous in tone, guiding us through flowing guitar riffs, resonant piano chords, and a thumping bass line. The intricate guitar picking throughout infuses a laid-back vibe, yet there's an underlying sense of urgency. But when you delve into the lyrics, the song's true meanings emerge. Hint: the first version of the song is definitely not about chilling on the beach.

The two versions of the song are below:

In contrast, the beer commercial version has adjusted lyrics that exude laid-back island vibes, promoting a break from the world's hustle. The first version is definitely not about that. It's more about an existential crisis and recognition that "all your life you had the chance to break the chains of circumstance" and that your life isn't quite over yet, even though you are "miles away from the places that you used to be."

The song starts with a verbal portrayal of a sunset, as the light trails you while running, visible even from outer space. This imagery brings me to a recognition that our actions leave trails behind them, and whichever way we run, our light reverberates into space forever. After all, we emit light from our bodies, and light lasts forever. In this way, our actions reverberate throughout the universe – a point the writer seems to recognize as he communicates to us.

Where are we going to be after all the things we do and all the places we've run? Perhaps what was done and said at the scene doesn't matter as much as the trails we leave and the places we end up.

Maybe, as the lyrics suggest, "our minds are meant to sail." In this life, there's no "rest from these thoughts, there's no peace from this hell." But if our minds are truly meant to sail, perhaps we can find rest, even theoretically, as we run into the future. Maybe there's a place where our minds will sail forever in peace. But for now, there's no peace from this hell, and we, as human travelers on earth, feel miles away from the places we used to be.

No matter where I've been in life, I feel we're meant for so much more than this. Wherever my thoughts go, there's never full peace. Alas, full peace in this life seems too much to ask for. Even if you end up on the beach, as depicted in the Corona version's lyrics. It contrasts by saying, "our minds

were meant to sail, take a rest from our thoughts, take a break from this world," as "we lay in the sand and stare at the sky." But no, in the original version, the artist explains that "this goes on in your restless head, and it goes on and on and on."

The song poses a poignant question, "All your life you had the chance to break the chains of circumstance, you're all, all you got" (or is it "your old, are you gone?"). Either way, whatever it says, it says beautifully.

You have the chance to break the chains of circumstance right now. You get to choose. As the "radio waves crash on you" and as "all the lights are shining on the screen," you get the opportunity to shatter the chains of circumstance. So, what are you going to do? Are you going to recognize the reality as the first version of the song denotes, or are you going to drift off into a fake beer commercial version of life, editing the reality, as you "watch the moon dance in white as the stars light your eyes"?

There are two ways to look at the world. Sometimes, I enjoy the acoustic edit of life, and other times, I prefer the raw, unfiltered version of emotions, as the "radio waves crash on me" in front of a screen, rather than as the "rolling waves crash along the beach." Life has space for both approaches. I'm glad both exist. I live in both. I relish both approaches. When I wake up in the morning, I'm not sure which version of life will confront me.

Today, I sat on the beach, feeling the radio waves and the screen. Yesterday, I sat on the beach and felt the rolling waves. My light will go on shining either way.