This was sent to me by a friend via email. When I read it I realized that maybe I had forgotten some of how powerful music is. In the never ending quest for great music perhaps I had forgotten, on occasion, to really listen and be moved and to place certain music into a certain moment. Some of the 'moment's below belong to me also, most not, but I think we can all read this remember...
I forget the power music has…
A song can come on and something in you makes your body move, makes you happy and want to sing loudly without any care of who can hear. Music can relax you when stress is out of control. Music can wake you up, fill you with energy when you need to get up and get going. Music can make you sad.
Music can make memories flood back. Make memories overwhelm you. Music can take you back years to a place, a period of your life, an age. It can bring the memory of a person you might not have thought about in years to life.
Maybe you are a young preteen in the back of the car on a dreaded family road trip listening to the same song over and over on your walkman singing at the top of your lungs to the annoyance of your family…
Maybe it was a road trip with an airstream trailer with your grandparents as a young kid listening to Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson…
Maybe it was your dad getting upset with his 10-year-old daughter signing Like a Virgin and dancing like Madonna…
Maybe it is the “oldies” station on in your best friend’s car. You both group up listening to the oldies station and know every word to every song…
Maybe you heard Bob Dylan for the first time and your soul found its sound…
Maybe it is an old hymn that was sung in church at the end of every service.
Maybe it is the first time you heard The Smiths. Your friend’s older brother was playing it on the record player and their music made complete sense to you…
Maybe it was getting in trouble for sneaking out to see Gun’s N Roses when you were 14.
Maybe it was Pearl Jams’s Black on a summer night in the front seat of your first loves car...
Maybe it was Jump Around at lunch on the high school campus speaker when everyone would stop eating and literally jump around…
Maybe it was Under the Bridge and your friend’s mom was telling you that Red Hot Chili Peppers were in some kind of satanic cult…
Maybe it was the first time you heard the Beatles White album in a small town in the panhandle of Texas, where they burned Beatles albums…
Maybe it was a road trip with your friends and you were so sick of the Grateful Dead you threw the cd out the window somewhere in Oregon…
Maybe it was the punk shows your sister would take you to, making you stand in the front and hold onto the rail, so you would not get hurt or get into a fight…
Maybe it was the first time your parents left you home alone while they were out of town and your friend had to go to the chiropractor after thrashing about to Smells Like Teen Spirit…
Maybe it was your first time and The Cure was on…your first time.
Maybe it was the first time you heard Tom Yorke’s voice and you got wet…
Maybe it was when you started listening to techno and going to raves…
Maybe it was your best friend playing guitar and everyone signing at your Saturday night beach bonfires…
Maybe it was that first night on the rocks above the shore and a rare version of Anna Begins was on…you realized the importance of sensuality in your life.
Maybe it was the philosopher in your life who wanted you to be more refined and listen to classical…
Maybe it was the prelude to the hipsters playing indie music for you in the living room…
Maybe it was you and your bestfriend raiding her dads change cups to get money for a show in LA…
Maybe it was dancing in the clubs to crappy grind-up-on-each other music…
Maybe it was driving down a country road in Montana listening to country…
Maybe it was the never-ending shows of your friend’s bands you went to hear…
Maybe you were introducing your friend in Hawaii to a band that would influence him still 10 years later…
Maybe it was learning the graceful sways of hula that you grew to love the music…
Maybe it was your dad picking you up from work in an old mini van blaring Bob Marley at full volume that made Marley no longer one of your favorites…
Maybe it was the Chemical Brothers in “the living room of never-ending smoke and drugs” your college friends lived in…
Maybe you turned on the music as loud as possible to paint, to make art, to be inspired…
Maybe you were practicing stupid dance moves from the movie Annie outside with your best friend while your boyfriend was having band practice inside…
Maybe you heard music from all over the world while traveling knowing that that sound would only be in that place at that time…
Maybe it was in Alaska and your bestfriend was always playing for you, wanting your option and looking to you for inspiration.
Maybe it was Ireland where house music and dance music found you, where you would dance for days…
Maybe it was it was your husband djing at dive bars on weekdays after working 9-5 in an office.
Maybe it was hating music for a while. Too many memories, too much connection to the fucked up situation you were in. Music was the passion of the one you shared your life with, but who you didn’t love like you should.
Maybe it was dancehall blaring in the car on Sunday afternoons. Turned up so loud you did not have to talk and face the problems you were in.
Maybe it was Band of Horses playing when you knew it was over…
Maybe it was hip-hop. Good fucking hip-hop that you cant help but move to somewhere inside your body.
Maybe it was editing your ipod to make it school appropriate…
Maybe it is using your art class to teach music appreciation. Trying to pass on good music to future generations.
Maybe it was trying to understand this music from the south, but just not being able to think it is good at all. Shit in fact is what I think about it.
Maybe it going to shows around Austin with your friend who writes for The Chronicle...he always knows the next big thing or the show you shouldn’t miss. I went along for the ride and the often came away with a new band to add to my itunes.
Maybe it was meeting a “famous” local musician and going out with him a few times before he told you he was married…fucker. Good music though.
Maybe it was a trip to Paris that reminded you about the jazz ladies you loved, the amazing Charlie Parker and how music used to be so pure and created for nothing other then the sake of music…
Maybe it was hearing Tom Yorke’s voice 15 years after the first time you heard Creep and his voice still having that orgasmic effect on you.
Maybe it is the newest Bob Dylan and hearing the age in his voice, reminding you of your own mortality.
Maybe it is Johhny Cash years later and wanting the kind of love he and June had.
Maybe it was LCD Soundsystem while you were rolling.
Maybe it was NWA blaring at the stoner’s house on a Sunday afternoon when you were heartbroken and trying to drink away your sorrow.
Maybe it the Violent Femmes in the car with a 14 year old…you both singing along on the way to paint…
We all have music we put on over and over.
We all have music we know will remind us of a time, a place, a person.
Happy music, Sad Music, Party Music, Get work done music, Music to make art to, Music to make love to…
Music.
Powerful.
amen!
Posted by: Tim Chilcott | June 12, 2009 at 10:38 PM