Can’t Get It Out of My Head
I have written before of how much I love music.
Let me rephrase that.
I have written before of how much I love different kinds of music. I admit that I don’t like all music, and I’m not going to tell you which genres I like and which ones I dislike. So there! I will tell you though that when I hear a song and the chills run up my spine, there’s a good chance that it’s struck my fancy, and there’s not many feelings that can match the experience. Nope. Not many at all.
I’ve also written how I always have a song playing in my head. No matter what time of day it is, no matter where I might be, there’s usually something bouncing around in my noggin noodle, and until I hear another song, or concentrate on another one, whatever is playing between my ears, stays there. I used to hate it back when I drove all around the state. I would go into a customer’s store and there would be a song playing on the radio from one of those genres that I didn’t care for, and if the radio in my truck was malfunctioning, my brain would be singing that song all the way until my next stop. I suppose it wasn’t all that bad, except if I heard the song in Rangeley, and my next stop wasn’t until I drove one hour, all the way down to Rumford. I’m cringing just thinking about it.
Listening to music though, is a pleasurable casual stroll down a sunny sidewalk in May that I have always looked forward to and am always searching for. It’s an unmistakable high that’s either chasing me, or I’m chasing it.
I have about 100 full albums on my iPod Touch, and when I hit the shuffle, I hardly ever skip ahead to the next song. There are certain albums that tell a story, albums that describe a familiar experience, albums that lift you up and slam you back down, and albums that grab you by the arm and just take you away.
I guess I started becoming fond of music back in my early childhood. I can remember the first time I heard songs like Paul Revere’s Cherokee People, or The Monkee’s Last Train to Clarksville, or how about a song that took me by storm, Alone Again Naturally by Gilbert O’Sullivan. Man how that song grabbed me and didn’t let go. To tell you the truth, I just did a Google on it and played the YouTube link for it. I remember dancing with my first real girlfriend, Mary Beth Mann, to that song back in 7th or 8th grade. I feel a little silly saying this, but while I was listening to it just now, I got all choked up as I was transported back through time, back to the gymnasium at Gorham High School, swaying back and forth to one of the greatest songs I had ever heard, my arms wrapped around the prettiest girl I had ever seen, my head resting on her shoulder as I inhaled the sweetest smell I had ever known.
Other than that, it was just another song.
Ya, right! Are you kidding me?
Music has always had similar effects on me, and I hope it always does, because to tell you the truth, like the truest of old friends, music never lets you down.
My tastes have changed over the years, from pop, to rock and roll, to folk, a little techno for a while, back to rock and pop, never forgetting my old friend, folk. When my feet start thumping on the floor and my fingers start tapping on whatever I can find to tap them on, music is usually the culprit. Mix in a little swaying of these old bones and you have instant addiction, billy goat style. No instructions necessary, no 30 day trial period, no parental warning, well, never mind. It’s all 100 percent natural and the experience is absolutely free.
Certain melodies, surrounded by a relentless back beat are magic. Just the right combinations of a few choice ingredients and, well, I just can’t control myself. The feet, the fingers, the shoulders swaying, the head bopping, and there you have it! An instant hit, surrounded by an instant, impressionable imagination that can recall, cue up and play those unforgettable classics in my mind at any moment, at any time. Why I have even been known to click or grind my teeth to the beat as well. Those are the real good songs I guess. Grin
As I said, my music tastes have varied over the years, sliding from one genre, to the next in an effortless and seamless melting pot of rhythm and grace. The music, not me.
Ok, ok, ok! I admit it! Uncle! Uncle! I even found my feet annoyingly tapping once or twice to disco. Yes, it’s true, but please, please, please don’t hold it against me, ok? grin
As for the more modern music, from Ray Lamontagne’s Repo Man, to Anders Osbourne’s 47, to Big Head Todd’s all the Love You Need, the blood pumping and circling around through my body is always trying to keep up with the beat and searching out the rhythm of a never ending, timeless tradition known as music. It never stops evolving, it never stops developing, it never relaxes and it never ceases to amaze.
Thank heavens for those who are talented enough to create it, and thank God for giving me the senses to experience the complete joy of it all.
I guess I really do love music. There are things in my life that I might love more, like my family, my friends and yes, perhaps even my chocolate, but music will always rank right up there with them all.
How could it not?