listen between the lines.
keith on the size of my mp3 collection: wow, that's. uh. none.
I burned an audio CD last night, my first in years. I used one of those sexy vinyl-look CD-Rs by Verbatim and I am inordinately pleased with myself.
I rarely seek out music to listen to, and almost never sit down just to listen to a CD. I download mp3s only when songs start to have meaning for me, when I start getting attached to certain lyrics, when I stop what I'm doing to actually listen.
Friends often make fun of my music preferences. I've come to expect it. In many ways, it's sad -- sad because it annoys me to a point where I no longer make any mention of what I like, and sad because when someone who really wants to know asks me what kind of music I listen to, I hesitate and stumble over my answer.
It's also sad because while not every song will have meaning to me, many of the ones I listen to do. The meanings may be simple, shallow, or even silly, but they're usually inseparable from their emotional consequences. And the emotions music often evoke do not hold up well to even friendly mockery.
And many songs also have stories. One, maybe two, each. Sometimes, I tell these stories to myself. Sometimes I merely wish I could tell them. Sometimes the stories can't be told, only felt. Not surprisingly, those are the ones I most wish I could tell.
~ * ~
Why does the second line to "Secret Garden" sound like "She'll let you in her mouth if the words you say are right"? And why does every lyric depository actually list it as such? Mouth? MOUTH? WtF, Bruce? I love this song so, so much, even though -- or maybe even more so because -- you can't pronounce "mind" to save your life.