You don't really care for music, do you?
Am listening to Horace Silver and feeling jazzercized!
Booyah!
Am also cleaning out my CD collection in the hopes of a musical revolution, or at the very least the ability to remember what I own. 500+ Cd's is a bit too much for me at the moment, so purge I shall.
As I get older the music of my youth begins to have decreased value to me. Perhaps this is a sign of my secular generation or perhaps my fickle nature is showing its true colours, but as the years pass by the artists I liked as a teen appeal a great deal less to the person I have become. What I listen to now is a far cry from what my pseudo-angsty teen self would have ever thought of listening to, or even enjoyed. Hell if I knew back then that I would own a CD of a Russian Orthodox liturgical service I would have laughed, called myself a pansy and went back to think Papa Roach were the best ever (EVER).
As my life has changed in so many ways, so have my musical preferences. My admiration now lies with deftness of hand and not soreness of vocal chords. To each their own however. There is nothing wrong with my musical past, but I have learned from it what works for me now and what doesn't.
As I sift through the music I have collected over the years it makes me smile. I smile because I have a way of documenting my musical life. Musical yearbook littered with fond summer wishes and see you in the falls. Unfortunately after tonight there will be fewer in the falls.
It is what it is.
Booyah!
Am also cleaning out my CD collection in the hopes of a musical revolution, or at the very least the ability to remember what I own. 500+ Cd's is a bit too much for me at the moment, so purge I shall.
As I get older the music of my youth begins to have decreased value to me. Perhaps this is a sign of my secular generation or perhaps my fickle nature is showing its true colours, but as the years pass by the artists I liked as a teen appeal a great deal less to the person I have become. What I listen to now is a far cry from what my pseudo-angsty teen self would have ever thought of listening to, or even enjoyed. Hell if I knew back then that I would own a CD of a Russian Orthodox liturgical service I would have laughed, called myself a pansy and went back to think Papa Roach were the best ever (EVER).
As my life has changed in so many ways, so have my musical preferences. My admiration now lies with deftness of hand and not soreness of vocal chords. To each their own however. There is nothing wrong with my musical past, but I have learned from it what works for me now and what doesn't.
As I sift through the music I have collected over the years it makes me smile. I smile because I have a way of documenting my musical life. Musical yearbook littered with fond summer wishes and see you in the falls. Unfortunately after tonight there will be fewer in the falls.
It is what it is.
Labels: Nostalgia
posted by Matsie at 6:18 PM
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