Tales from the Record Shop

This past weekend was weird, a bit serendipitous, and quite a blur.  We spent a lot of time at record shops and music stores.  We met people.  We connected with humanity.  Zach and I talked endlessly about soul mates and all our dreams.  It was a nice change from my mostly hermit life.  Truly, my brain feels relaxed, but I’m definitely ready to hide away for a little while so I can get work done.  I got very inspired this past weekend.  It was all just meant to be, I suppose.

It got really nostalgic though.  Sure, we listened to Peter, Paul and Mary, Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan and all that stuff.  I was almost brought to tears by Odetta’s voice.

Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to be saying this.  We all have to come out at some point or another though.  I listened to Hanson.  A lot.  This weekend.  I don’t think I’m done.  I’ll probably still listen to it a while longer.  There, I said it!

I’m kidding, of course.  I really think it’s silly when people are embarrassed of what music they like.  I know it’s not cool to like Hanson though.  But I never really understood why.  They are one of the best selling indie groups out there (still!).  Clearly, I’m not the only one to think they are talented.  Also, when has there ever been a time when I’ve given any shits about what people thought about me?  Not really my business anyway.

My musical roots actually really started with Hanson (sorry, this may be a disappointment, but I was actually not raised listening to Bob Dylan – I found him in college).  I was little when they exploded all over the place.  It really wasn’t a surprise I came to like them.  I loved talented kids.  I looked up to a girl a year older than I who was good at karate and I thought she was just the most insanely badass person ever.  I also loved to emulate people I admired.

I was already playing the violin at that time, but I picked up the piano shortly after.  I collected small instruments.  I learned how to sing.  I learned song structure.  If I could have forced my little brother to be in a band with me, I would have.  Because my god, I would make him sing harmonies with me.  I made my dad take me to music stores so I could play with (and dream about) all the shiny, wonderful instruments that I so desperately wanted.  I exposed myself to other music, other than what my older sister listened to (Prince, Madonna, etc).  And at the age of 11, I would play with my parents’ records for hours, mostly trying to figure out “Ben” by Michael Jackson and jam out to Bryan Adams.

To put it another way, I became obsessed with more than just Hanson.  They were just a spring board.

OK, sometimes I forget where my rants are going, so let me take a second to backtrack…

Oh yes, now I remember.

Sometimes, you just need to get back to your roots in order to know where you’re going.  When I left music, I really left everything, burned bridges and pushed it all out of my mind.  It’s hard to start from scratch.

But I’m kind of having fun doing it.

Until next time.

 

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