Thursday, February 25, 2010
Midnight Musical Interlude No. 1
It’s been a dreary day here in Denver. A gray, weepy game with drizzling, cold rain and snow. For a melancholic soul like me, it’s a catalyst for the worst of my own mind. Fears, worries, and a creeping, spidery awareness of my own failings poke at the back of my head, needle sharp and insistent. Much of it comes from memories that play in my head as if the I was living through some of the worst moments of my life again.
I can see, hear, smell, and feel everything that happened in those moments. Sometimes I think I understand junkies and alcoholics. If you can’t turn off the noise in your head by shear force of will, if you can’t find a way to get away from the most vicious bits of yourself, then drugs and booze are a hell of a temptation.
Which is one of the reasons I stopped drinking at one point in my first marriage. Not that it saved us, but I started to understand why I liked drinking so much, and it wasn’t a very happy realization.
Some of you know that I lost a friend when I turned 21. He died an ugly death around the same time I started bartending--a death directly attributable to his alcoholism. I had been drinking since I was about 13, but his death was almost like someone firing a starter pistol and I was racing to the bottom of the bottle. Most people that I knew then were drinking because it was part of the party; I was drinking because I wanted to kill myself. I had a very specific view of myself and I wanted to destroy the person that I saw, I wanted him to sink away and never come up for air.
Of course, it wasn’t always that way and it wasn’t constant--which is why I never quite made it to either addiction or suicide, why I still had friends, and why, when I grew up some, I found out that I could be okay. That I could start shaping my life to be something better, something happier and more full. I think I also learned that loneliness is largely a self-fulfilling prophecy.
But some nights, old habits crawl back in.
Which, if you know me well, probably explains my taste in music. If I have to relive the worst bits of my life, then the soundtrack should fit, right?
With that introduction, here are a few songs that I’ve been playing today. Enjoy.
Comments & Trackbacks
Sometimes you just gotta play the blues.
Today would be Johnny Cash’s 78th birthday.
Feel better.
Well, I’m glad you came through it all right. Really, you seem a lot more upbeat and well-adjusted to life than a lot of folks. Perhaps part of the reason for that is having gone through some rough times. Makes a person more appreciative for the things that are good.
I’ll have to visit that play list later. I’m more in the mood for upbeat at the moment.
Not that it’s terribly relevant, but I just caught some Faith No More on Radio Paradise. I think I’ll pick of some of that. A Small Victory, I think. The only other thing by them I’ve knowingly heard is Easy. Just heard a band I had never heard of, <i>The Innocence Mission</a>, fronted by Karen Peris, who sounds kind of like a cross between Ricki Lee Jones and Natalie Merchant.
Speaking of The Blues, I can think of a bunch of times when I’ve felt terrible, and listening to The Blues helped out. Seems paradoxical.
Jed, the blues make us feel better because it’s always nice to know that there’s someone else feeling miserable too.
Robert, that could be part of it, but I don’t think it’s the whole of it. That’s a bit too cerebral, whereas The Blues, properly experienced, is visceral.
In order:
Indeed.
Dude, get Cash’s new CD. It’s amazing.
Jed, I’m actually pretty happy right now--I’m married to a woman that I love and who loves me, I’m reasonably well employed, and I have a pretty comfortable life, all things considered. And, yeah, going through really rough times does give you a little perspective about what really constitutes good and bad. That said, even in the worst times, you wouldn’t necessarily know it’ I’m not a recluse, but my privacy is very dear to me.
I like Innocence Mission quite a bit. Her voice reminds me most of a singer named Harriet Wheeler from the Sundays. They only put out three albums and the third of the bunch is kind of uneven, but the first two are brilliant.
Faith No More is--well, I love them, but their version of “Easy” isn’t like a lot of the rest of their music. I’ll be curious to see what you think of the rest--A Small Victory is a good place to start.
I can’t listen to happy, upbeat music when I’m feeling rough. The happy stuff makes me angry--violently angry.
Everyone has bad days and bad moments and moods. I’m having fewer of them now than at any other point in my life. I count myself a lucky man.
Now, we need to put together a proper party for April. What do you guys think?
I completely grok the privacy thing.
Nearly any well done music works for me most of the time. Which is why I disagree with Robert. Take Birdhouse in Your Soul. It’s nearly impossible for my mood to fail to improve after listening to that. Especially if I’m where I can crank it up.
Now that I have the oops with the library cleared up, I can see how long the hold list is for some Faith No More. Or I might just pick some up, since I have to head for Second Spin for some Stone Roses anyway.
April. Upstairs at Hanson’s (Louisiana & Pearl)?
Don’t get too attached to the date yet, though. Let me check with my wife and with some others and then we can hammer down a date. For Combs’ sake, I might even consult him on what would constitute proper a numbering scheme.
Or I might continue to embrace the irrational.
I’m sure we can find a mathematician who can suggest several irrational numbers. For example, the square root of 2.