A Reawakening to Music

There was a time in my life when music meant everything. It was vital. Although I can’t sing a note on key or understand anything about how it’s made, music spoke to me, for me, and about my experiences like nothing else.  Around the time I became a mother, however, my interest in music started to wane and, until a month ago, I thought it was something that was gone from my life for good. Now I simply have to write about it where I am and how I got there.

High School ~ U2

Although I never was a part of their crowd, I adored the alternative set and wished I had that whatever it was to hang out with them. I may never have been a part of them, but their taste in music certainly influenced me.  Those were the days that belonged to Tears for Fears, The Pet Shop Boys, REM, and U2.

Of all the music I listened to then, U2 was the band I found on my own. Bono’s voice was an elixir and, if he could send subliminal commands through his guitar, I would have followed The Edge anywhere. By the Christmas of my junior year, with the help of my Aunt Donna, I finally saved enough money to buy a Discman (they may be antiquated now, but they were IT back then). The first CD I bought was The Joshua Tree. Shortly thereafter, a friend and classmate died of a freak medical condition.  One Friday I talked to him before catching the bus home, the next day he was dead. After hearing the news, I went downstairs and began working on a jigsaw puzzle and listening to The Joshua Tree on continuous repeat. If I wasn’t eating, sleeping, or at school, I was working that puzzle with my headphones on. I remember Mom coming down to check on me the afternoon of Michael’s funeral. I told her I was OK. I wasn’t just brushing her off. I was okay. I just needed the space to come to terms with what happened and how I felt about it. That puzzle and that music gave that to me. When I finished the puzzle, I was ready to return to my life. To this day, The Joshua Tree can soothe me. In fact, if I were ever to get a tattoo, it would be of the back cover of that album.  That’s how much it means to me.

Young Adulthood ~ REM

In college and into early adulthood, REM took over. My musical horizon expanded to include The Cure, The Smiths, Depeche Mode, the Black Crows, Tori Amos, Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam, but Michael Stipe was the one who enthralled me. From the moment Automatic for the People came out, I was obsessed. Who knows how many times I listened to that album all the way through. I love how it spans from youth to death. “Find the River” is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard. About that same time, I started pirating my best friends college Internet access and found myself on what we called talkers.  All I wanted to do was talk about REM and Michael Stipe. It was  in that way I met my future husband and led me to move South.

Married Life ~ Tori Amos

After I got married, Tori Amos became my muse. I loved Little Earthquakes and Under the Pink. They shaped the way I viewed myself as a woman and the adult world around me.  When Boys for Pele was released, I was at the music store at midnight.  I was that eager to get my hands on it.  That was when I first realized that not everything Tori does works for me.  I loved “Caught a Lite Sneeze,” but most of the rest of the album wasn’t accessible to me.  When From the Choirgirl Hotel came out, Amazon began selling more than just books. I pre-ordered it and had it shipped to work so I could listen to it on the first day. I was nervous, though. Afraid that Tori had gone someplace I couldn’t follow her. Although it was 12 years ago now, I can still see myself putting that CD into the drive on my computer and let it play. Within the first minute of  ”Spark,” I started to choke up. It was so beautiful and I knew that this would be my Tori Amos album. I was right.  It was where I turned as I struggled with infertility while everyone else was having babies so easily. I connected with her experience of miscarriage and took courage for whatever life had in store.

Motherhood

On the very day we celebrated our 5th anniversary, Danny and I started our family through the adoption of our beautiful Emma. Two years later, almost to the day, we completed our family with vivacious Allison, who came into the world the old-fashioned way.  Almost from the day we brought Emma home, music was moved out of the way.  It wasn’t a conscious decision. Danny, who’s been the biggest musical influence in my life, continued to listen to new music and bring great bands to my attention. With the exception of The Killers and their first album, music just didn’t do it for me any longer. If I wasn’t working or taking care of the girls, I was reading and  eventually blogging.

As the girls entered elementary school, Radio Disney became “the thing.” When we’re together in the car, Radio Disney is on. While the girls love it, listening to the same 10 songs ad infinitum quickly becomes irritating. Seeing the joy and happiness those songs bring to their faces as they sing along in the back seat eases that a bit. Besides, I’m not adverse to playing a song to death. When I love a song, that’s exactly what I do. So, even if they weren’t my choice  in songs, music became something for my children. I wondered how it would continue to impact their adolescence and young adulthood. Then, as soon as I was alone in the car, I switched to my audiobook. I was a mother skipping ahead toward middle age. Music wasn’t something made for me.  For all intents and purposes, it was dead to me.

2011 ~ The Decemberists

Oddly enough, it was the death of a musician from before my time that started to change the way I felt. I remember Danny mentioning Captain Beefheart, so when I saw that he passed away, I retweeted the news item for him. He wasn’t the only one who noticed and responded.  Although a lot of teasing took place, the conversations that followed reminded me of how much I enjoyed talking about music. I started to become curious again about what else was out there. When you’re curious about something, you instantly are  more aware of what’s being said around you. That’s how I stumbled upon The Decemberists.  Two of my favorite tweeps mentioned them and I became excited to find out more.  I saw someone tweet a link to one of their upcoming singles, “This Is Why We Fight.”  I was hooked and downloaded it as soon as it was available. I realize now that as much as I was excited to listen to it, I was even more excited to talk about it. I’ve gotten to know other tweeps better as a result.

This week, audiobooks have taken a backseat to music.  The King Is Dead was released and I’ve also been digging deeper into The Decemberists catalog.  It all feels fresh and very much alive.  The other night Danny played me “Mine Smells Like Honey” from REM’s upcoming album. I thought their best days were over, but as I listened to that song and watched the album’s trailer with Danny, I started to get tears in my eyes.  They so good and I realized how much I missed them.

40 may be right around the corner, but music can still move me and speak to me the way U2, REM, and Tori Amos have done in the past. After a stressful afternoon, listening to “This Is Why We Fight” was refreshing and soothing.  I’m happy and hungry for more.  I hope you will be find music popping up more often around here and most certainly on Twitter.  God, I feel a compilation coming on already…