my friends call me a music snob. hell, even i call myself a music snob. i was fortunate to have a dad who grew up with 45’s. a whole library’s worth. i grew up listening to chuck berry, hank williams sr., johnny cash, kingston trio, and if you can believe it songs of the confederate states of america. my dad would often quiz me on music by playing a section of a song and having me name the artist. to me, this was more rewarding than getting an “A” on a test or winning a science fair. this was our time. just me and my dad. as i grew older, our little music sessions became something of the past, but to this day it was what developed my ear for good music. in high school i was the typical angsty teenager. i would hole up in my room with my boombox, a set of earphones, and my favorite cassette tapes. i drowned myself in the smashing pumpkins, lapping up their obscure lyrics. i became engrossed in the pixies, feeling my soul swarm at the voice of kim deal. glen phillips became my mentor. my best friend, katie and i would try our damnedest to see as many shows at tuxedo junction that the age limit would let us. katie was the one who dropped me off on the doorstep of jane’s addiction and dinosaur, jr. all of these bands and artists helped me become who i am today. it is music that cures the insuferable wallflower.
and with age comes wisdom. i was surfing through iTunes for songs that i missed terribly. it was like reconnecting with an old friend. the elation and the wanting to catch up on all of the words that were lost. i probably downloaded $40 dollars worth of music just in the past week. and with finding that old friend comes finding that entire group of people that you forgot you knew. and the auditory memory is fascinating. hearing “psychokiller” by talking heads reminded me of being in mark robert’s beat up car, “mattie” and driving around huffman, stopping at Abe’s for a soda and cigarettes. and listening to “do you love me now” by the breeders rushed in memories of sitting at moneer’s in homewood, drinking mint sweet tea and pretending we were invinsible. it is amazing what we associate with the music we listen to. to this day hearing “last goodbye” by jeff buckley still makes me think of standing in the parking lot at uab my first year of college and having my boyfriend kiss me in the rain.
music is still the only thing that makes me happy no matter what comes into my life. i can rattle off a list of music that i associate with each and every one of my friends. whether it be because that was the song we listened to while getting drunk or were crying on each other’s shoulder or happily lying in the grass at oak mountain.
and don’t forget the art of the mixed tape. i have fallen in love with every person who has given me a mixed tape. it is an extension of their feelings. a tribute to our friendship/relationship/hatred for one another. my very first mixed tape was given to me by my first boyfriend. it was a compilation of songs i knew, songs i didn’t know, and climaxed into the sweetest bathroom acoustical song that he wrote and sang for me. that is true love isn’t it. if it’s not then i don’t want to know what is.
March 23rd, 2007 at 2:21 pm
Funny isn’t how a certain song can bring back a memory.
There’s no time I don’t hear “Brown Eyed Girl” and don’t remember. It was the summer before my senior year in college and Telluride was playing a party at my frat house set up on the back patio. That was their sound check number. Sitting there listening on a glorious late summer afternoon, it seemed as if the world lay before us and all the possibilites were limitless.
March 23rd, 2007 at 2:39 pm
When I listen to Surfer Rosa, I think about the time I asked my boyfriend to give away his poster of the topless flaminco dancer. I knew he loved me because he did, and now I would give anything to have that poster back. Because now in my much more tolerant time of life, I would gladly hang that on my wall.
Vamos a jugar por la playa.