Panorama of San Bernardino

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Finding My Musical Religion

If I could write perfect memoir it would have music embedded into it.  One would read a bit of my childhood and young adult memories with a song playing in their ears.  For me, music is a religious experience.  I lose myself.

Music saved me.  In my high school years, it was a balm for all of the depression and loneliness in my soul.  Music from post punk bands like The Smiths, The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Pixies, The Replacements, and U2 (along with many, many others) took that all the pain away and provided an outlet.  Only music people understand what I mean.  Truth is, you either are a music person or you're not.  It's like being a good waitress.  It can't be taught.  You can tell someone is a music person by whether they relate their music to memories. I remember the first Smiths' song I ever heard on the radio ("This Charming Man")  and the first time my friend Tracy played Siouxsie for me at her house.  When I was little, I would dance to The Go Go's on the radio singing into a hairbrush.  When I think of my dad, Johnny Cash is playing in the background along with some Loretta Lynn.

Interlude-Right now, the song "Changes" by Bowie is playing on my headphones and before that "Where is my Mind" by the Pixies and "Los Angeles" by X and I am watching the sun rise in the high desert with the earth's own special mix of purple and yellow.

If I ever lose this side of myself, the musical side, I will have officially become old and you can put me out to pasture.  The day I hear an X song and don't jump up and down like a maniac, just sedate me please.  And tonight, in true JEM fashion, I will be seeing The Cult live and don't expect me to not to dance and sing along.

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