You can thank Darth, and the Phoenix for inspiration on this post.
When I was a kid, about 9 years old or so, I found myself frequently taping music from movies (Troop Beverly Hills) and video games (Curse of Monkey Island) by pressing my portable tape player up against the tinny speaker of the TV or PC.
My love of popular music then started suddenly, when I was about 12 years old. I previously hadn’t listened to much music on the radio, only what I managed to tape. I only heard what my mom and dad would have playing on the radio. I thought Milli Vanilli was the beginning and end of the radio spectrum.
Then, my grandmother gave me her old radio. It’s a decent radio, but it’s mocked up to look like one of those elongated, old-timey, “Drink your Ovaltine” radios.
I’d tune it to 98 Rock, the only station I knew. Within a few days I would find myself up at nights, waiting to hear Sober by Tool. I was instantly addicted.
Soon after I started to hear U2. I liked it. I heard Pearl Jam. I didn’t like it. I heard Stone Temple Pilots. I hated it.
I bought a U2 tape after learning that a girl named Angie, who I had a major crush on, also liked U2. My music collection was born.
At some point I went on a 2 week backpacking trip in northern New Mexico, and one of my co-hikers introduced my to Bob Marley. Prior to that, all I new was rock.
Marley initiated an infectious change on my life. Where I was previously violent, I became peaceful. (Sorry mokiejovis, and unnamed older brother.) Where I was quick to judge, I became introspective. Bob Marley’s music, literally, changed my life.
It’s as if he had reached into my chest and gently squeezed my heart whenever I would hear certain songs. Trenchtown Rock does it. Small Axe does it. Kaya does it. Every time I hear those songs I take pause, and I become enveloped in the music.
I was listening to Badly Drawn Boy, and he seems to do it too. I’m not sure what it is, but the music just reaches into my body, grabs hold of my guts, and doesn’t let go until the song is over. It nearly brings me to tears.
I remember feeling the same way listening to Tool way back in the day. I’d be laying in bed and I could feel all the angst that was being expressed through the song.
Not all music does it, but some of it does. And to think of life without being able to hear those songs is more than depressing.
I listen to music all the time. On the computer at work, in my car, while I excercise. (And yet, I don’t have an iPod) When I don’t have music playing, I’m going over it in my head. Right now I’m switching back and forth between Phony Rappers by A Tribe Called Quest, In the Name of Love by U2, and Shining by Badly Drawn Boy… and they’re all pulling at my insides, and it feels great.
