Journal Entries
Music is my aeroplane….
Posted Mar 19, 2003
Throughout my whole life I have always had one all-encompassing love, and that has been a love of music. Granted, some of it changed (and some of it hasn’t), but music has always been a very strong influence on my life.
When I was younger, we were always exposed to my Mother’s music. I’m talking everything from the Shirelles to Dusty Springfield, to Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash. I mean, I suppose every child is subjected to the musical tastes of their parents as they’re growing up, but this was pretty much ALL THE TIME. There was almost always a record playing, tapes in the car and radio as we were going to sleep. I can still hear one of those songs and sing them almost word for word. This was the beginning of my musical – freakdom, a trait that is shared in most of my siblings, but particularly by my eldest brother and me.
Apart from having this musical influence early in life, I then was exposed to the music of all of my siblings. Now, at varying times it has changed, but it was rarely that two people in the house would be listening to the same kind of music. One would be listening to top 20 stuff, one would be more alternative, one would be dance-oriented, one would be rap, etc, etc. When I was younger I used to be slightly elitist in my musical tastes: What I listened to was cool and what everyone else listened to was crap. Now I’d like to think (largely as a result of coming from such a musically varied people) that I can be cool with most stuff, regardless of whether or not it’s part of “my scene”.
Which I suppose leads to the question “What exactly is my scene?”
Without sounding like a cliché (having said that, this is a really prevalent cliché in the people I meet), I listen to pretty much all types of music. In saying that, I suppose I mean I can listen quite comfortably to most kinds of music. I do have a real love for music that seems to transcend any kind of “scene”. At the moment I would have to say my top ten musical “acts”, in no particular order, would be:
1. Elvis Costello
2. The Velvet Underground
3. The Beatles
4. Tool
5. System of a Down
6. They Might Be Giants
7. Ray Charles
8. The Strokes
9. Roy Orbison
10. Ash
…And I think that’s a fairly accurate cross-section to the stuff I listen to. I mean, regardless of whether the “general public” feels that it’s good or bad music, everyone would have to agree that it’s varying, wouldn’t they? I never assumed that my music was the music of the people, and I never intended it to be. It’s just the stuff I like, and that’s all that matters to me….
I seem to be falling behind as far as new music is concerned. I think that people who stick to an era have it a lot easier. I’m trying to keep an ear out for new stuff that I like, while trying to fill this massive backlog of stuff that I need to get. For example, I have been spending the last few months concentrating entirely on Elvis Costello, trying to get a hold of all of his cds and pretty much just immersing myself in his stuff. It aint easy and it can be very time consuming.
As a general rule I don’t really get around to getting a whole collection of one act’s stuff. I have about 6 of The Beatles’ cds and apart from the Elvis stuff (I’m up to about 13 there at the moment), that’s the largest collection I have from one particular act. I tend to be fairly non committal with actually purchasing stuff, but if I love something I love it (for example, I love the Velvet Underground, but only own two of their cds, one of the many things on my to-do list….)
Well, I’ve just gone over another page of incessant rambling without actually figuring out what the point of it all was. I guess I just wanted everyone to know that I love music. And I really do. It seems to be that one thing (especially if you’re socially inept, like my good self) that can really help you out when you needed it, dig?
The best thing to listen to after a hard day at the office is “Aenima” by Tool. Just turn it up as far as you can and scream at the top of your lungs. It really helps with pent up aggression. Or if you want to get into a happier place, try “Birdhouse in your Soul” by They Might Be Giants. Its just got that wistful poppy kind of tune that gives you that extra spring in your step. Break up music can depend on whether you want to be happy about it or not. If you want to feel a little sorry for yourself, “Anyone who had a Heart” by Dusty Springfield always helps (when I broke up with my last boyfriend, I realised I didn’t really love him when I played this song for two hours non-stop and still couldn’t cry!). If it’s a kind of revenge song, try “I wish you were dead” by Scheer or “I hope you’re happy now” by Elvis Costello.
Do you ever just hear a song and feel? I can remember the first time I heard “Something” by the Beatles. I stopped what I was doing (cleaning the room, like I needed an excuse), put the song on repeat and just sat staring at a wall for an hour or so. The first time I heard Elvis Costello sing “I Want You” I stopped breathing. The first time I heard Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” (with a strange feeling I’d heard it before), I dropped the (thankfully empty) cup I was taking into the kitchen. When I heard “Lover, you should’ve come over” in its entirety I almost cried.
But it’s not only sad songs that have this effect on me. “(I don’t want to go to) Chelsea” is actually the song that got me hooked on (The Other) Elvis, after already having “Oliver’s Army” and “Accidents will Happen” locked somewhere in my subconscious. Ash’s “Goldfinger” may have made me swoon, but it was “Girl from Mars” that made me go out and buy the cd. I always thought that the Red Hot Chilli Peppers were pretty cool, but I didn’t LOVE them until I heard “Aeroplane” (as you can probably tell by the title of this piece….)
And then there are songs that are just so damned sexy it almost kills me. Some have already been mentioned (“Something”, for example), but songs like “Touch Me” by the Doors, “Foxy Lady” by Jimi Hendrix, “Last Nite” by The Strokes and “Superstitious” by Stevie Wonder all good examples. The lyrics themselves might not do it, but sometimes the music (eg the bass in “Superstitious) and/or the vocals (I maintain that the lead singer of The Strokes has the sexiest voice in the world!) will kind of give you that all-over goosebumpy feeling…
The point I’m trying to make is that music, for me, has always helped externalise my feelings. Sometimes the only thing you need when you’re in a foul mood is to know that someone else has felt the same, and that’s pretty much what music is all about. Whether I want to sob hopelessly, fall asleep (try “The Tourist” by Radiohead, one of the most touching pieces of music I’ve ever heard), fall in love or just rock out, music is my aeroplane…..
PS – Bands and musicians that I regretted not putting on my top ten as soon as I wrote it:
The Doors, Radiohead, Jeff Buckley, Powderfinger, Travis, Lou Reed, The Living End, The Clash, James Brown, Aretha Franklin, New Order…..
Discuss this Journal entry [472]
Latest reply: Mar 19, 2003
The Meaning of Life…. (NEW and IMPROVED!!)
Posted Mar 6, 2003
What is it that makes us need to believe that there is some sort of Greater Purpose to Life, The Universe and Everything (is anyone suprised by the Adams reference? If so - SHAME ON YOU!!)
Now I know what y’all are thinking (it’s a gift I have….) “Why would I listen with any degree of interest to some 20ish year old girl philosophising on the Meaning of Life?” Well, the fact that you’ve gotten this far is proof that you’re willing to some listen to a 20ish year old girl philosophising on other stuff, why would this be any different? I’m not claiming that any of this is true or SANE, just a few random thoughts that I thought I’d share with the world….
I personally would like to believe that there is no meaning to life. That it’s all just some scientific anomaly, some cosmic practice in extreme probability. I mean, in a universe that is so (theoretically) expansive, chances are that something that we would qualify as “living” was bound to exist. (Don’t get me started on the notion of an “infinite universe” either – that does my head in entirely, and I don’t want to put anyone else through that!!
The whole “greater purpose” thing has forever been the thorn in my side, for several reasons:
1) It insinuates that my life has a purpose – which it is greatly lacking.
2) It insinuates that the lives of those around me have some sort of purpose – which is PAINFULLY lacking in many cases.
3) The whole notion of cosmic responsibility bothers me.
I see so much suffering and pain around me, and I wonder what possible purpose it could serve, and can think of nothing.
Then there is the religious point of view, which, regardless of how hard I try, I cannot ignore (God bless the indocrination of children into Organised Religion before they learn how to think for themselves!). I have always felt a sense of empathy for my fellow Man and have always tried (and sometimes it’s really, REALLY tricky) to do good by others. I don’t know if that’s because of religious guilt, cosmic consciousness or to aid my martyr complex (which is coming along nicely, thank you very much), or because I’m just a nice person (which is a bit of a leap…), but I do try to be a good person.
What kills me is that we seem to need a reason to be nice. I’ve always thought (and to varying degrees at varying stages of my life, believed) that religion was initially created as a kind of horror story. Except, instead of “Why can’t you be more like that nice girl down the street?” or “If you don’t watch out, I’ll give you what for!”, it has become “Why can’t you be more like Jesus?” and “If you don’t watch out, you’ll go straight to Hell when you die!”. Sometimes it just seems like Religion is a natural, and somewhat extreme, progression from parents that were just trying to keep their kids under control….
I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t help but believe that there is some sort of bigger picture for all of this mish mash of maniacal mayhem (i.e. “life”). And that really irks me. What is it about my life that makes me feel that it MUST be part of something bigger? There’s just seems to be something inherently egomaniacal in the assumption. I don’t understand why I believe that my life serves some sort of purpose above and beyond itself. I mean, I don’t think that other animals are part of any bigger picture (although they should be I think most animals are far nobler and in tune with it all then we are…). Why do I feel like my life MEANS anything? Why do any of us? And why are we all so intent on finding out what it means?
Bottom line (and ultimate cop out, after blabbering incoherently for so long) is that I don’t know. More to the point, I don’t particularly want to know. I’d rather live this life rather than sitting around trying to analyse it (says the girl writing about every little inconsequential thing that pops into her mind!). You know what, damn it all! I’m going to step away from the computer for a moment and do something completely frivolous and nonsensical (probably pump up the radio and dance like a lunatic, then go out and play pool). I suggest you all do the same…!
Discuss this Journal entry [17]
Latest reply: Mar 6, 2003
The Meaning of Life...
Posted Mar 6, 2003
What is it that makes us need to believe that there is some sort of Greater Purpose to Life, The Universe and Everything (okay, I stole that from Douglas Adams, I have a feeling I’ll be doing a bit of that for now….)?
Now I know what y’all are thinking (it’s a gift I have….) “Why would I listen with any degree of interest to some 20ish year old girl philosophising on the Meaning of Life?” Well, the fact that you’ve gotten this far is proof that you’re willing to some listen to a 20ish year old girl philosophising on other stuff, why would this be any different? I’m not claiming that any of this is true or SANE, just a few random thoughts that I thought I’d share with the world….
I personally would like to believe that there is no meaning to life. That it’s all just some scientific anomaly, some cosmic practice in extreme probability. I mean, in a universe that is so (theoretically) expansive, chances are that something that we would qualify as “living” was bound to exist. (Don’t get me started on the notion of an “infinite universe” either – that does my head in entirely, and I don’t want to put anyone else through that!!
The whole “greater purpose” thing has forever been the thorn in my side, for several reasons:
1) It insinuates that my life has a purpose – which it is greatly lacking.
2) It insinuates that the lives of those around me have some sort of purpose – which is PAINFULLY lacking in many cases.
3) The whole notion of cosmic responsibility bothers me.
I see so much suffering and pain around me, and I wonder what possible purpose it could serve, and can think of nothing.
I’ve already discussed the religious point of view, which, regardless of how hard I try, I cannot ignore. I have always felt a sense of empathy for my fellow Man and have always tried (and sometimes it’s really, REALLY tricky) to do good by others. I don’t know if that’s because of religious guilt, cosmic consciousness or to aid my martyr complex (which is coming along nicely, thank you very much), or because I’m just a nice person (which is a bit of a leap…), but I do try to be a good person.
What kills me is that we seem to need a reason to be nice. I’ve always thought (and to varying degrees at varying stages of my life, believed) that religion was initially created as a kind of horror story. Except, instead of “Why can’t you be more like that nice girl down the street?” or “If you don’t watch out, I’ll give you what for!”, it has become “Why can’t you be more like Jesus?” and “If you don’t watch out, you’ll go straight to Hell when you die!”. Sometimes it just seems like Religion is a natural, and somewhat extreme, progression from parents that were just trying to keep their kids under control….
I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t help but believe that there is some sort of bigger picture for all of this mish mash of maniacal mayhem (i.e. “life”). And that really irks me. What is it about my life that makes me feel that it MUST be part of something bigger? There’s just seems to be something inherently egomaniacal in the assumption. I don’t understand why I believe that my life serves some sort of purpose above and beyond itself. I mean, I don’t think that other animals are part of any bigger picture (although they should be I think most animals are far nobler and in tune with it all then we are…). Why do I feel like my life MEANS anything? Why do any of us? And why are we all so intent on finding out what it means?
Bottom line (and ultimate cop out, after blabbering incoherently for so long) is that I don’t know. More to the point, I don’t particularly want to know. I’d rather live this life rather than sitting around trying to analyse it (says the girl writing about every little inconsequential thing that pops into her mind!). You know what, damn it all! I’m going to step away from the computer for a moment and do something completely frivolous and nonsensical (probably pump up the radio and dance like a lunatic, then go out and play pool). I suggest you all do the same…!
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Mar 6, 2003
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