The catch-all for items related to and/or inspired by the music that shaped me.
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This week's theme: The Precious Few
I couldn't do it, you guys...even though I feel like I've repeated myself a lot this month in relation not only to previous Soundtracker events but just in songs I generally use when I'm randomly blogging, I couldn't leave Wilco out. I feel so predictable...and on the 28th day of a 29-day month I also feel like I've left a ton of other great bands and songs on the shelf.
In the last...I dunno, however long I've owned these albums for, whenever I've made a mix cd for someone there is a really good chance it's opened with "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" or "Misunderstood", or had "Sunken Treasure" somewhere in the middle. There are just some songs that always show up for some reason. And having a kickass opening song is the sign of a good cd...it sets the tone and pulls you in. It's just as important as the closing song, and equally as important as the rest of the content combined many times.
The three songs I just mentioned...technically they're all "first songs". "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" is off of Wilco's greatest album (in my opinion), Yankee Hotel Foxtrot . "Misunderstood" and "Sunken Treasure" are the first songs from each disc of Being There ...a double album, and I'm not crazy about most double albums because there is sometimes too much to take in at once, and not all of it is good. But Being There, to me, isn't like that. I guess you could say it meets expectations, rather than just being a couple really great songs topped off with extra filler. It's not awesome all the way through by any stretch, but it's solid and consistent. Nineteen songs that don't suck is always better than two batshit-amazing songs mixed in with ten that blow.
So anyway, I was layin' in bed this morning scrollin' through Facebook, and one of my brothers shared a meme and tagged a couple of his and our friends in it...it said somethin' like "Do you ever want to move somewhere new where no one knows who you are and start all over again?" And I don't get it, because he's got a great job and a lot of friends, even if he still lives with our mom. It's a safe, comfortable situation. I'm not sure what the risk or gain would be in giving that up to start all over somewhere else.
And I say that because that's basically what I've done. I had my biggest breakdown almost four years ago and an opportunity presented itself for me to actually GTFO and start a whole new life in an area about 3.5 hours away from home where I only knew one other person. I could leave the old me behind and be a new person. Almost. You don't just change zip codes and suddenly you're someone else. It's not like stripping off the t-shirt and ripped jeans and throwing on a tuxedo. Moving doesn't work like that.
It also, well, it backfired on me as much as I haven't totally bought into the concept of meeting new people. Some unexpected shit happened, like when I broke my ankle. That didn't exactly do me any favors with my anxiety or depression. And some doors opened, like the volunteering position I had, or the semester I spent back in school...but I couldn't capitalize on those opportunities either. Things haven't gone as planned so far. I came out here to get away from who I was, and I've had some small victories, but I'm reverting back to the stagnancy I was running from in the first place.
Even in big groups, surrounded by friends or in successful career phases, I was still starting to feel very alone. In some way, shape or form, I've always stood out. I've got a funny name, or ugly clothes, or a dumb haircut. And even when I was fitting in more, I was still somewhat of an outsider. The whole "fear of having good things because good things always go away"...that's very real to me. I'm afraid to open up, because I will likely wind up scaring people away at some point. And it isn't always because I've done something wrong (although there's been my fair share of mistakes). It's because I don't give people the chance to understand me. Even when I deliberately try not to be complex, it comes off the wrong way. It's hard to describe; it's certainly one of the reasons I'm seeing a therapist, and I still can't seem to get out what I want to say or what I mean.
And now I feel like I'm babbling. Over the years this song has meant a lot of different things to me; mainly toward other people, and it's written from the perspective of a fan toward the changing attitudes of his favorite performer. But as time goes on, and the more distance I put between myself and my home and everyone and everything, the more I turn it in my direction. The more I write, and try to understand myself and clarify myself, the more confused I seem to end up sometimes. I don't want to think that that's my destiny or anything, but the longer it goes on, the more likely it seems. Ya know...something like "Make a mistake once, it's an accident; make it again, it's a decision." What if my decision has been made for me? What if I'm not supposed to be figured out? It's not as empowering as it sounds...it's frustrating, in reality. But it's my normal setting, I guess.
"You still love rock and roll."
I have a folder in my port I've titled "Sunken Treasure" ...you don't have to click on it or check it out or anything; you're already in it anyway. It's just where my blogs are stashed...all the long-form writing. Everything that isn't little shards or leftovers or spare parts, I guess. There's not much of a description for it, other than "These are the conversations we don't always get to have." That's really all these 1,000+ entries are...my talking at you. And sometimes you talk back in the comments, and that's nice because then it doesn't feel so one-sided.
But eventually someday I'm gonna hafta start talking to real people again (not that y'all aren't real...but, you know...). People who aren't doctors or drug store cashiers. I used to be pretty good at that, and I'm not anymore...I'm outta shape mentally for that, I suppose. There will be human interactions and relationships will form and information will be shared, and all of this stuff that I've ever mentioned in any kind of writing will come up over time. Judgments will be made. And I'l have to live with that, one way or another. There might be revelations. There might be more solitude. More opportunities to either mine for some kind of gold, or mint more instead. Whatever happens happens.
Music will always be there. Not just because I need it, but because someone else needs it more than me. And maybe that's why all of this whatever stuff surrounding my life exists...because I'm the one that needs these words the most.
"Music is my savior.
I was maimed by rock and roll."