Wednesday, February 1

Mustalgic Musings

If you don't like the tunes, you may turn off the player at the right

We all have things that we deem too sacred to share. Things that are such an intimate a part of our core, or at least what we believe to be our core, that we would feel naked if it were to be flaunted in front of our eyes. Is it that we don't believe that anyone else would 'get it'. Is it that we believe these things set us apart, they make us feel different, special?

Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm over analyzing my adolescence. Have we all grown out of it? Don't try to tell me that it wasn't real when we were 15, cause I won't believe you.

I'm feeling particularly mustalgic tonight and last night. And so, I've decided to share what I can find on You tube of my 'too sacred things'. In my case, they are mostly music. Of course, I could always spout off to you the melodramatic stanzas scratched on napkins and concert tickets, but that would be not only crossing comfortable boundaries, but ridiculous.  


Though I don't discard  the neurotic possibilities of my 14 year old self, I also know that many of them come from a part of my life when I was particularly alone. That is not to say I was lonely or throw a melodramatic hint of disgruntleness into the calculation, It was actually one of the happiest times in my life. I figured out alot about myself and these tunes were part of an awakening, my very first identity crisis.

Of course, while I'm going on and on and on about these balads, these hearts strings pulled directly from my aching pulsing self, I can't not mention that none of these bands came to me of my own talant to identify ingenius chords and rifts. My family played a part that can not be adequately described. Melanie placed by some miracle The Wild Colonials and The Red House Painters in my path. David got me and the rest of my family hooked on The Connels, Andrew exacerbated my need for a weekly dose of Crowded House. I'll never forget the day my closeted new age Mother brought home a single of The Sundays version of Wild Horses. And of course, Mark sealed my emotional response to Here comes the Sun, by leaving me to my rainy day walking self while he planted trees in Mississippi(For the record, this is the very least of musical memories Mark left me with).

Last week at a conference, someone was talking about trends in a business that I consider important. He made reference to the Romans and how they accomplished a lot of amazing things, and yet their civilization gives us more ruins to study than direct links to valuable wisdom or knowledge. Then he asked what will separate us from them? It is that we will share what we've learned with the next generation. Okay, I know, didn't I just say something totally profound? (As she walks away, her back dripping with sarcasm) But I think it's true that it does little good to sit around thinking we are the only special ones. This music doesn't really say anything about me. It does however speak volumes about the culture and people it came out of, people that I identify with and bring parts of me outside of my small sphere.And I must say that though music can be tool of self expression and meditation, it is most thoroughly appreciated in large masses, where thousands of people are enjoying the energy all at the same time. So at the risk of ending my short blog habit, that's how I'm going to imagine you all, reading this all the way down to the end of grueling sentimental post, all swaying together with the rhythm and hum of gigantic amplifyers, feeling the energy of these songs flowing out into the blogwaves, and maybe even doing a little gig in your kitchen like I am in mine.

And if you have read this far, I'll let you in on the most sacred secret loves of my life, which is not found on You Tube. If you like The Wild Colonials track 'Heaven and Hell' you must listen to the full album 'Fruits of Life'.

And what about you, what do you deem 'too sacred to share'?

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