Last night my buddy Steve asked me an age-old question, one which I’ve thought about before, but one which nobody’s asked me in a long time. If you had to choose one, would you rather be blind or deaf? It’s a tough question. My first response was “if I was deaf I couldn’t hear music, but if I was blind I couldn’t see anything,” a statement which Steve proclaimed to be (in all seriousness I’m sure) “epic.” Overall, the obstacles of deafness are much easier to overcome than the obstacles of blindness. If I were deaf I could still watch movies and TV with subtitles and I could learn sign language and learn to read lips to retain the ability of communication. I wouldn’t be able to hear murderers/rapists/muggers creeping up behind me, but that doesn’t happen too often. The only unconquerable obstacle I could come up with for deafness was that I would never again hear music. There’s no substitute for music and thus it’s too tough of a choice to make. Never see a naked woman again or never listen to the Rolling Stones again. It’s depressing me just to think about it.
To give me some inspiration for this introduction to myself and what music means to me, I put on my absolute favorite song in the entire world, “Gimmie Shelter” by the Stones. I plugged my headphones into the computer and turned the volume up as loud as it would go. As the sultry opening licks build I can feel something building inside of me. Then as it explodes into the drum beat I find myself tapping my foot, bobbing my head, closing my eyes and singing along with the beloved, familiar lyrics. It just feels good. I don’t really have a good reason to give you for why I love music, I just do. I always have, ever since I was a little kid and my dad would put on Simon and Garfunkel and Peter, Paul and Mary records. It took on a life of its own when I got my first CD player. The first time I listened to my first CD, Smash by The Offspring, in my own room on my own CD player, I knew this wasn’t my dad’s music, which meant it was my music, and that just seemed special to me.
iTunes has ruined me on genres and even on albums. More often than not when I’m listening to music I’m listening to it on shuffle, letting fate decide and letting music do the driving. In terms of what kind of music I listen to, I won’t say ‘everything’ because Chuck will throw up in his mouth and because it really wouldn’t be true. I don’t listen to everything by any means. But name any genre of music and I can probably tell you at least a song or two I like. I would have to say my least favorite genre of music is modern country, but I’ll listen to Toby Keith and Willie Nelson doing “Beer For My Horses” any time of the day or night. I don’t particularly care for Reggae-ton, but I’m not above getting down when some Sean Paul comes on at a party. I suppose what I listen to the most would be classic rock, alternative (whatever that actually means), hip hop, metal, punk and some of that college style indie rock (Spoon, Modest Mouse, Iron and Wine, etc). But I really don’t like classifications. Are the Beastie Boys rock or rap? Is Matisyahu reggae or rap? I have a total metal-head friend who doesn’t like White Zombie (my favorite metal band) because they’re not “black metal.” There are sub-species of metal now? This is starting to sound like Biology class. I say fuck the classifications, it’s all music. A lot of it sucks, but that just makes the bands and songs that don’t suck that much more special.
Glen Vaughan
“…when it comes to that fantastic note where the rabbit bites its own head off, I want you to throw that fuckin radio into the tub with me.”
--Dr. Gonzo, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment