Music Is My TARDIS

I love music. All kinds of music. I love classical and classic rock. I love swing and Motown. I love new rock and new wave. Grunge, rap, country, top 40 (to a lesser degree), bluegrass (to a much lesser degree) or show tunes, opera, I do like it all. Although there are a couple of genres that I would be just as happy if I never heard again.

That new-agey non-music music. Yes, I know it's supposed to help you relax. It does the opposite to me. I get very anxious. I get jittery, jumpy and fidgety. It just does not agree with me.

Yodeling. For obvious reasons. In “Mars Attacks”, I love that they used Slim Whitman records to kill the aliens. Nice touch.*

I'm sure there are other types of music, that I like or dislike, but those are the ones that popped into my head immediately. Oh sure, there are bands or artists I don't care for, but they're within a genre I do like. Many “classic rock” bands I'd be fine never hearing again. Even if I like the band, there are songs that make me want to scream, mostly because they are o v e r p l a y e d to the N^th degree.

I love how music can make you feel, make you remember. Certain songs will play, and that song takes you back to a place you thought you'd long forgotten. Or certain songs instantly put you in a happy mood. Or melancholy mood. Certain songs will remind you of a person.

For me, even though a song has nothing to do with a person, a song may still remind me of that person, and I don't know why. There's one song I'm thinking of, “Downtown Train” by Rod Stewart. That song always makes me think of one specific person. I wasn't with this person when I heard it, we'd never done anything mentioned in the song, and I don't recall even being in a downtown with this person. But every time I hear that song, there's that person in my head.

Then there are the songs that have that power to transport you back to a time and/or place. The power of nostalgia. There are quite a few songs like that. "I Can't Wait" by Nu Shooz, anything by Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam, "Diamond Girl" by Nice N Wild. When I hear those songs, I mentally travel to a place I used to frequent. I mean, I can feel the atmosphere, smell the smells, see blurred faces (with some faces in focus- those of my friends).

I'm reluctant to mention this next tidbit, because after yesterday's post, I may leave you with the impression that I'm a hoarder. Though my husband might tell you differently, while I may be a bit of a pack rat, I'm not a hoarder.

I got my first CD player when I was 19. I'm a few years older now. I have nearly every CD I've ever bought since that day. The only CD's I recall getting rid of were odd free samplers that I never cared for. I also have all of my vinyl LP's. I have a harder time getting rid of music than I do books (or silverware). Obviously.

More than one person has seen my collection of CD's and asked how many people owned them, because they are pretty random in taste. I thank my brother and sister for introducing me to "real" music when I was really little. Not random in the racks, though. They're alphabetized. Otherwise, I'd never find them. Ever see “High Fidelity” with John Cusack? As cool as this would be, I would NEVER know where anything is, because I just can't remember:

Dick: I guess it looks as if you’re reorganizing your records. What is this though? Chronological?
Rob: No…
Dick: Not alphabetical…
Rob: Nope…
Dick: What?
Rob: Autobiographical.
Dick: No f***ing way.

*To fans of yodeling, and/or Slim Whitman, I offer my heartfelt apologies.