By fall of the year 2000, the world through my eyes appeared cold and comatose. The mishigas of the Y2K "scare" was already ancient history, the Bush v. Gore battle was nearing a sticky end, and the world bid adieu to a century of years beginning with the 19-- prefix. Pop music, especially that of the boy band and underage pre-teen girl ilk, choked out whatever lingering integrity remained in an otherwise anemic American musical society.
The view of the future, as is its nature, held much uncertainty. This was also true of my life. At the time, I had parted with many things that were dear to me, risking a lot by moving to a town I didn't know and attending a school I couldn't afford. Due to--what was then--recent events (which seemed catastrophic at the time but turned out to be so microscopically pathetic) there was a rapid quickening of my emotions and it made me feel impenetrable. Little did I know, that "invincibility" was a festering chasm of insecurity that masked itself in a very strange way. I was bitter, yet optimistic. I was ready to find fault with everything decent in life, yet the only thing I really wanted was anything decent in life.
Some things, too few in fact, come along in a lifetime to help change someone's perspective. For me, in late October of 2000, it was sitting on a street curb, smoking a pack of Camel Filter cigarettes, and listening to All That You Can't Leave Behind for the first time. Through the downed windows in my Oldsmobile Alero, I set the CD player on repeat, and listened to the entire album about five times over.
Emotions and music share a mysterious bond that I don't think I'll ever understand in my lifetime. All I know is that every time I hear Wild Honey or In a Little While, I remember what it was like to live at that exact moment in time and how well my life has progressed since then.
Forgive me this rant and my inability to convey my thoughts as thoroughly as I would have liked.
I just think it's neat, is all.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
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4 comments:
It is amazing how music can impact ones life, be it positively, as in your case, or negatively. I remember when I bought that album. Believe it or not, it was my first U2 purchase, and it came on a whim. I was in Hastings looking for a new CD and I came to the U2 section. For reasons unknown to me, I saw All That You Can't Leave Behind and decided to buy it. Keep in mind I had never heard much of U2 except the passing song on the radio, and I decided to buy this record not knowing anything about the band. Additionally, I don't buy CD's. Ever. I'm always afraid I'm going to be wasting money.
I remember listening to this record and then doing it again and again and again. It was around that point in life that a transformation was taking place in me as well. I was always (and still am to an extent) a very naive person and viewed the world as such. After finding out that that viewpoint and college don't often lead to spectacular results, my life was changing and I needed something to help me along (although I didn't realize it at the time).
In many ways, that record was the beginning of who I am today; it had a great impact on how I thought about music, which is a big part of who I am. So I guess I understand where you're coming from.
Whim purchases often end up meaning the most. My purchasing All That You Can't Leave Behind was the gleaming ray of light I was looking for in the seemingly endless void in the wake of Pop.
Back when I was living in Dallas (circa 1999-2000), I remember buying Amy the Fiona Apple album, When the Pawn... (follow this link for full title) as a birthday present. My thirst and curiosity for new music made me rip it open and pop it in the CD player. It fast became one of my favorite albums. At the time, since I was so cynical and bitter, said album was really more of a godsend. I knew Fiona knew a thing or two about where I'd been...
I'm not sure if I went down and bought another copy for Amy--which was fully my intention--but I'm inclined to believe I simply mailed her a nifty pen & pencil set.
Sorry Amy.
Nary a present was sent. But in all fairness, I think you were just getting back at me for the time I handed you The Cure album Galore and said "look what I bought!" You had a big smile on your face, thinking I had bought it for you, and I took it back and said "well, see you later!"
Well, I guess that makes us even then.
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