haiku

sitting, killing time
my thoughts always go to you
and still, you don't know

my relationship with music

I've always considered myself to be a bit different than a lot of people I know. Not in the "I'm a real weirdo" kind of way, but partly because I'm a little complex and it's particularly difficult finding people to relate to. Even when I was younger I felt as though I didn't relate to a lot of my peers even though I had a lot of friends. I have vivid memories from when I was probably 8 or 9 years old, sitting in the woods in my backyard with a notebook writing about God knows what.  In junior high, I would spend hours in my room listening to music and memorizing lyrics, specifically every word to Don McLean's "american pie". To this day I know every word to this song because I listened to it on repeat making sure I deciphered each word exactly right. I never felt "alone" even though I may have been physically alone because I had the comfort of music and words. I would write stories and poems (which I still have) and listen to music on repeat and identify with the lyrics.

That girl is who I still resonate with to this day. She is still at the core of who I really am.
For as long as I can remember music has seriously helped me get through my days. From a young age I have always used music as a way to understand and feel connected to my thoughts and feelings. The first thing I do when I wake up, after starting the coffee, is I turn on music. Lately, I've chosen to listen to "Take to the Sky" or "Secret Spell" by Tori Amos, or on particularly slow-moving mornings "Here Comes The Sun" by The Beatles. Music helps me concentrate. It motivates me. It calms me down

I think my love for music has a lot to do with having a Dad as a DJ growing up. Music was always at my disposal since he started collecting vinyl when he was a teenager and continued to buy music through his career as a DJ. Growing up mostly anything I wanted to listen to he had available to me. I still hear stories about when I was baby, my Dad would play music when watching me and my sister, and we would just laugh and dance around the basement. As I got older this tradition has somewhat remained in tact. Some nights he and I will jam and listen to oldies - I just don't dance like I used to....well, sometimes I do, I'm not gonna lie. I swear my Dad is a walking musical encyclopedia. My favorite example was when I was driving home from work and I recognized a song on Magic 105.7 (a local Oldie's station) and I wanted to remember it so I could download it later. I of course forgot it, but I said to my Dad, "There's a song I heard on the radio, it's kinda slow-ish and I think there are three words in the title - C something C. Any idea?" My Dad quickly responds with "Crimson and Clover?" He was exactly right...just from my crappy description. He's pretty fantastic that way.

I'm like my father in the sense that I have A LOT of music, but I don't collect vinyl like he did growing up - I have CDs and mp3s. But it's still a similar hobby that we have in common.

This is my favorite scene from High Fidelity (besides the Bruce Springsteen scene) because I relate to is so much. I don't know how many times and how many hours have been spent organizing and then reorganizing my music. Like Rob says in this scene "it's comforting..."

But never have I organized my music autobiographically. Although in my early 20s I did try to keep a music diary as a way of remembering songs that I listened to at particular points in my life. I tried to go all the way back to elementary school...because yes, I still know that when I was 8 years old I used to make up dances to the song to "justified and ancient" by KLF. Anyway, the music journal/diary got all messy when I realized I was listening to a "2003 song" in 2009 for nostalgia purposes...how does one categorize that? Maybe as a re-visitation? I don't know...but, alas, the project fell through. Maybe I should consider resurrecting it.

you still got a secret spell

When people ask me what kind of music I like to listen to I'm always quick to say that I love classic rock (true) and that I love Bruce Springsteen (very true). But my iTunes will tell a very different story - it is a labyrinth of indecipherable confusion. However, I really do "love" Bruce Springsteen in the most honest, school-girl crush kinda way. His music "soothes me."  My love for Bruce is very, very different from my love for Tori. I only bring this up because I'm always hesitant to let people in on my love for Tori Amos because of my history and personal affiliation with her music. It's sort of my own secret relationship. In fact, I sometimes don't know who I would be if her music hadn't existed. She has been a huge musical hero and inspiration to me for most of my life. Her music has helped me through some of my darkest, darkest periods and each time it is her poetic, musical genius that pulls me through whatever secret prison I'm stuck in or pain I'm struggling with. I always feel liberated listening to her music. No matter how many times I listen to her songs, each time I discover a different message.

Secret Spell is one of the few songs that is resonating with me these days. (Putting the Damage On is the other...for several reasons.)

in one hand dreams a plenty
in her smile a secret spellthere have been disappointments
these she knows all too well
but you losing you
was not a part of this plan
so...
jumps at three tears at thirteen
just turn you around for
eighteen wheels in a high heel
turn you around
sold a dream at twenty three
turn you around
hold outyou still got your secret spell
at the heart of the matter
someone wove a secret spell
mixed with girl not so peaceful
angel and animal