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Entertainment

It’s Just Music, Baby. . .

Every Rose

I am rediscovering my music collection.  I have 200-300 CD’s remaining from all the ones I have ever purchased.  A good 100+ were sacrificed by father’s religious furvor when I was 20.  I checked myself into a mental hospital (for the 1st time) after that.  I’d guess at least 50 more disappeared because hocking Cd’s used to be a good way for quick cash (thanks, shithead little brothers).

The thing that prompted me to drag out the Cd’s (back story, moved back in with my parents 3 1/2 years ago, stopped living, still here, Cd’s housed in boxes under the bed) was ANGER.  I was so frustrated and broke (couldn’t even buy a 40) and I knew I needed to listen to Korn.  Who knew, I own AT LEAST 6 Korn Cd’s?!? I find Korn very soothing/calming when I am frustrated.  Used to listen to them in the car when I needed to really let go.

So I spent the first time listening to Korn through these cheap headphones that came with my Iphone 3G and IT WORKED!  The next night (last night), I decided I needed to continue with the one artist them, so I revisited Oasis (seriously, those albums improve with age, like Zeppelin).  All I could think was LYRICS, LYRICS, LYRICS and that my brother was write, Noel is, in his own way, as good a singer as Liam (I didn’t think that back in the day).

The Cd’s are still in boxes, so I have to pluck from them lick picking fruit;  Might not get the best one, but it will be the one that catches my eye.  Started the night with Madonna, the mellow stuff, cause that was how I eased into her (did I mention I grew up in a religious household where Princess Leia’s Ep VI getup deemed her a slut?) but I started relaxing too much.  So now I am listening to a Prince cd that may have only been available through mail order (The Very Best of) but now I am definitely awake.

I’ve always known music could sooth my soul.  In junior high, when I would have a particularly shitty day (and there were a lot of ’em), I would come home, turn the volume high, and lie face-down until I fell asleep.  In the afternoon. 

Music can make me cry when real life can’t.  I had just gotten into a habit of only listening to music in my car, and since I don’t work any more, I don’t drive enough to rotate the Cd’s in the car.  Heck, I don’t even drive enough to hunt for a CD!  I actually finagled to get the latest Muse cd but haven’t had the pleasure of listening to it OVER AND OVER as I would have done. . . when I had a fucking life.

But last night, I was working on a migraine, from stupid stress, and after 10 minutes of Oasis my headache largely disappeared, as my anger had abated the night before with Korn.  Right now, I feel much younger than I have felt in a while thanks to Prince’s slick jams (it’ll oil your joints!).

As much as well all question each other’s musical tastes, there’s so much about it that is common.  Discovering that someone else LOVES the same artist/group that you do.  I can think of one friendship that was built solely on my unending love for U2.  Respect for other musicians and music lovers. . . I used to play the piano and sang in chorus, so I know the basics.  And the generational music!  I met up with some friends from junior high, and as we were leaving the bar, the DJ was playing Poison. We stopped in the parking lot to howl along. They begged us to come back in! Now on Facebook I can have full conversations with people I barely know about MUSIC because we are of the same age.
I haven’t even touched on my love for other genres of music. I discovered Nina Simone years ago (the film Point of No Return featured her music) and I now speak her name as if it were a prayer. I studied classical as a piano student and yeah, I love Beethoven and Mozart, but Wagner is COOOL! If I don’t get to see B.B. live I will be sad (and U2 introduced me to him via Rattle and Hum).
Last note. I finished my BA listening to lastfm. It took me a ridiculous amount of years to finish that 4-year degree, but there at the end, as I was cranking out my thesis on “Sex and Sexuality in Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth,” the constant stream of (largely) my favorite Brit Pop kept me focused.

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About clocklearf

I've wanted to be a writer since the third grade.

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