"I can keep rhythm with no metronome."
I've noticed that periods of my life are defined by the music I listen to. Vienna Teng is always going to be associated with my first apartment and my LJ RPG days. "The Wall" and "Les Mis" will forever remind me of long hours at the rat lab. High school was all about the Goo Goo Dolls, Evita, Offspring's Americana album, and the Dave Matthew's Band. The most recent periods of my life are wrapped up in Garmarna, Three Days Grace, and NIN's Year Zero and Ghosts. This current period of my life is all Metallica, classic rock, and Jack Off Jill.
And the Offspring's new album, "Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace."
I DLed it yesterday (because I can has teh Interwebz nao!) and listened to it whilst running around doing errands and cleaning.
*______* I want to have Dexter Holland's babies. His voice is like a fingernail running up my spine.
I love this album. "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid," "Fix You," and "Stuff is Messed Up" are by far my favorite tracks, but the whole thing is great. I have missed the Offspring in a massive way and "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" slams that home with a sledgehammer. Obsessively bouncing between this album and Metallica's "Master of Puppets" (because I only just realized yesterday that I didn't own that album and that's just a crime against music) also had me reevaluating how much music means to me.
Music is a MASSIVE part of my existence. I define my life--and myself--in a series of soundtracks. I randomly break into song with little to no provocation; hear snatches of lyrics in everyday conversation like it's my job; and practically have my headphones welded to my ears. I love the baroque period of classical, damn near anything involving a violin or viola (or any other stringed instrument), more musical forms of rap and hip hop, more folk version of country, and metal, punk, rock, alternative, and electronica with equal fervor. I can sing full songs in French, Japanese, German, Chinese, and Swedish (even though I've only had training in two of those languages and the latter three are probably horribly mispronounced) and music plays in my head like a goddamn broken record player.
My iPod is as vital in my life as my housekeys or my hands. I ache with deeper meaning of "Lights in the Sky" and "What Sarah Said" and throb with the truth in City and Colour's rhetorical "And isn't it great to find that you're really worth nothing?" in "Day Old Hate." By the same token, I'm empowered by "Better Off Without You," (which never fails to make me think of my mother and other disastrous relationships) and "Me Against the World." There are genuinely days when I feel like I can't stand to be sober in this place. Or when I'm living like a disaster and want to scream at the entire world to "kill me faster." Or even when I feel like everyone is "talking in a language I don't speak, and they're talking it to me."
Music can wreck me or pull me to my feet again. Send me running into the bathroom at work to cry when the wrong song overwhelms me or have me bouncing in my seat because, "like Al Pacino's cash," I'm gone--or because "I can end the planet in a holocaust."
People have songs, too, indelible musical imprints woven into the greater tracklist of my life. Themes of love and damage and betrayal and loss and joy and trust run through my mind like plot devices in a bad novel. Betrayal is "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" and "Cablecar." Trust is Coldplay's "Talk" and love is Skillet's "Whispers in the Dark" or "Collide." Damage is . . . well, damage is a thousand songs in my music library.
"Landslide" belongs to my father and, in nostalgic moments, Don McClean's "American Pie" album is my mother's. The Doors, Guns 'n Roses, and Everclear belong to my sister. "Undercover" and "Run" are eternally going to make me think of Conrad and Yozak and, thus, swgmigraines. Nirvana and the Smashing Pumpkins rolls around in my head with memories of the Macubry brothers in high school and junior high. Anything from hack://Sign makes me think of herongale and "Vindicated," Five For Fighting, and "This Woman’s Work" all make me think of mashiroikaze. "The Color Green" and "When I Fall" are color guard practice with Marlaina and Laura and endless hours of saber work. chloe_almathea and leperunclean will always be the first things that spring to mind when Flogging Molly slides out of my headphones and into my ears. And J, Great Big Sea and Dropkick Murphy are all you.
The whole of my life and every shade of thought and emotion therein are bundled on my iPod in 4700+ tracks and growing. Looking at that seemingly random mix of music, I wonder what it ultimately says about me and my ripple effects on the world around me. And what musical imprints I'm leaving on others.
And the Offspring's new album, "Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace."
I DLed it yesterday (because I can has teh Interwebz nao!) and listened to it whilst running around doing errands and cleaning.
*______* I want to have Dexter Holland's babies. His voice is like a fingernail running up my spine.
I love this album. "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid," "Fix You," and "Stuff is Messed Up" are by far my favorite tracks, but the whole thing is great. I have missed the Offspring in a massive way and "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" slams that home with a sledgehammer. Obsessively bouncing between this album and Metallica's "Master of Puppets" (because I only just realized yesterday that I didn't own that album and that's just a crime against music) also had me reevaluating how much music means to me.
Music is a MASSIVE part of my existence. I define my life--and myself--in a series of soundtracks. I randomly break into song with little to no provocation; hear snatches of lyrics in everyday conversation like it's my job; and practically have my headphones welded to my ears. I love the baroque period of classical, damn near anything involving a violin or viola (or any other stringed instrument), more musical forms of rap and hip hop, more folk version of country, and metal, punk, rock, alternative, and electronica with equal fervor. I can sing full songs in French, Japanese, German, Chinese, and Swedish (even though I've only had training in two of those languages and the latter three are probably horribly mispronounced) and music plays in my head like a goddamn broken record player.
My iPod is as vital in my life as my housekeys or my hands. I ache with deeper meaning of "Lights in the Sky" and "What Sarah Said" and throb with the truth in City and Colour's rhetorical "And isn't it great to find that you're really worth nothing?" in "Day Old Hate." By the same token, I'm empowered by "Better Off Without You," (which never fails to make me think of my mother and other disastrous relationships) and "Me Against the World." There are genuinely days when I feel like I can't stand to be sober in this place. Or when I'm living like a disaster and want to scream at the entire world to "kill me faster." Or even when I feel like everyone is "talking in a language I don't speak, and they're talking it to me."
Music can wreck me or pull me to my feet again. Send me running into the bathroom at work to cry when the wrong song overwhelms me or have me bouncing in my seat because, "like Al Pacino's cash," I'm gone--or because "I can end the planet in a holocaust."
People have songs, too, indelible musical imprints woven into the greater tracklist of my life. Themes of love and damage and betrayal and loss and joy and trust run through my mind like plot devices in a bad novel. Betrayal is "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid" and "Cablecar." Trust is Coldplay's "Talk" and love is Skillet's "Whispers in the Dark" or "Collide." Damage is . . . well, damage is a thousand songs in my music library.
"Landslide" belongs to my father and, in nostalgic moments, Don McClean's "American Pie" album is my mother's. The Doors, Guns 'n Roses, and Everclear belong to my sister. "Undercover" and "Run" are eternally going to make me think of Conrad and Yozak and, thus, swgmigraines. Nirvana and the Smashing Pumpkins rolls around in my head with memories of the Macubry brothers in high school and junior high. Anything from hack://Sign makes me think of herongale and "Vindicated," Five For Fighting, and "This Woman’s Work" all make me think of mashiroikaze. "The Color Green" and "When I Fall" are color guard practice with Marlaina and Laura and endless hours of saber work. chloe_almathea and leperunclean will always be the first things that spring to mind when Flogging Molly slides out of my headphones and into my ears. And J, Great Big Sea and Dropkick Murphy are all you.
The whole of my life and every shade of thought and emotion therein are bundled on my iPod in 4700+ tracks and growing. Looking at that seemingly random mix of music, I wonder what it ultimately says about me and my ripple effects on the world around me. And what musical imprints I'm leaving on others.