Music has been a powerful thought-provoking, emotion evoking force in my life as far back as I can remember. There are certain songs that transport me back to periods of my life and all of the feelings that were, and still are, associated with it. Sometimes, music is associated with an event, such my high school prom. Sometimes, it is tied to a person or a group of people, like my college friends. Sometimes, it is related to a significant time of my life and all that it entailed, such as when my world imploded several years ago. Every time, music has a profound impact on my mind, heart, and baby soul.
I don’t just like music. I fall in love with it. Whether it is love at first sight, or listen, as the case may be, or a love that smolders and then ignites, when it happens, it happens and doesn’t go away. My musical tastes have changed and expanded over the years, but like old friends whom I don’t discard when I make new ones, I don’t let go of old music when a new artist captures my attention. They all co-exist in perfect harmony in my music library.
There have been times, though, when a song or an artist that has been happily associated with a person, event, or period falls from grace, due to a negative occurrence, like a death or the demise of a relationship. When something like this happens, I find myself changing the radio station or pushing skip on my iPod whenever the now painful musical reminder pops up, and I go into avoidance mode. Some songs or artists are a bit easier to exile for a while, while others leave a void. Recently, I filled the musical void left by an artist, whose only crime was to be associated with the demise of a relationship, by creating some new happy memories that will be forever tied to him and his music.
I slowly welcomed the artist back into my life by purchasing his most recent CD, which upon first listen, was bittersweet. On the heels of this purchase, I tentatively bought tickets to see him in concert, all the while feeling apprehensive about the potential emotional upheaval it may cause. My apprehension dissolved into ambivalence, but when one of my college roommates agreed to accompany me to the concert, my ambivalence turned into excitement. On an impossibly beautiful June evening, we took in an amazing show, and it was like being reunited with an old friend, one you haven’t seen for a long time, then you pick up right up where you left off. There were new songs and old favorites to go along with my old and new memories, and the new memories quickly replaced the ones that proved to be so painful. As the concert ended, I explained the significance of this seemingly innocuous event to my friend, who immediately understood, and I thanked her for helping me to reclaim this bit of music for myself. Like love, in the end, music always finds a way to triumph.
That’s another story . . .
Categories: That's Another Story
It’s nice to be able to listen to music in your head without head phones.
Indeed it is, Ed!