Finding My Music

Because Halloween is near enough to my birthday as nevermind, and because it necessarily involves a somewhat lengthy jaunt to a Really Big City (for the Most Excellent Annual Halloween Bash EVER, courtesy of X-Man and his Lovely Wife, whose birthday is even closer to Halloween than mine, albeit on the "other side" of the holiday), there's always the possibility that pre-Halloween travels might include a pit stop at a music store with a larger selection than those in my immediate vicinity, and which I can indulge my cravings for NEW METAL without the typical guilt associated with such senseless frivolity.

All of which is to say, sometimes around Halloween, I go shopping for new music, and justify the cost based on the fact that "it's my birthday, it's my birthday!"

So there I was, in a big-ass shopping district with The ListMaker and her Lovely Boyfriend, and upon the horizon of our intended stops—I was still on the quest for a decent bra, but that's a whole 'nother story, The ListMaker required some nylons, and her Lovely Boyfriend needed a tie—there did appear a rather large Music Store.

"I'll be in there," I mumbled, pointing, and heading off in its general direction with scarcely a backwards glance.

Inside, I dismissed the overzealous music salesman who glommed on to me with leech-like tenacity with a wave and a sort of grimace that I really meant to be a grin. I did not need any assistance, NO, for in the Grand Tradition of true geekishness, I had MY LIST.

It's not a list that I could impress The ListMaker with by any means, except possibly its length. It's not at all organized, and it's PAPER, for goodness sakes, NOT EVEN programmed into a handy little hand-held computer. However, it includes practically every tune that I've heard on Chronix that's ever impressed me, and it's annotated, as appropriate, with the specific items that should, ideally, be acquired AT FIRST POSSIBLE OPPORTUNITY.

And yet, because it's on paper, it's not the first incarnation of my musical requirements. Thus, there are some sad omissions from its past lives, during which it was contained in various other scrawling formats.

I practically shrieked when I stumbled across one such item, scanning the band names for something else entirely. This particular album had been on my mental Metal Wish List since the earliest days during which I'd discovered Chronix—so long, in fact, that although I remembered the song which had specifically tickled my fancy, I'd entirely forgotten that it was performed by a "chick singer." And that's pretty pathetic, given the song title: "When I Am Queen."

So, with Clear Hearts Grey Flowers by Jack Off Jill neatly corralled, I continued on my quest. The ListMaker and her Lovely Boyfriend stopped by, and The ListMaker giggled at my clearly manic-obsessive focus (I was also smiling and already rhapsodizing ridiculous about this particular store in which I would obviously be dropping a wad of cash—or credit—in short order), and then they left me to my gleeful insanity.

While stocking far from every item on my lengthy list, there were exhilaratingly many options from which I could choose, and so I selected three more in addition to Jack Off Jill, which is just a lot of fun to say:

• Shadows Are Security by As I Lay Dying, for "The Darkest Nights" and "The Truth of My Perception"
  
• The Jester Race ~ Black-Ash Inheritance by In Flames, because it's IN FLAMES and I love pretty much everything they've ever done!
  
• The Funeral Album by Sentenced, for "May Today Become The Day," "Her Last 5 Minutes," "Vengeance Is Mine," and "Drain Me" (which is totally as naughty as you may think it is)

And then, while The ListMaker and her Lovely Boyfriend were off finding the wing pins we needed to complete our costumes, I sat outside the music store and fondled my purchases, perusing the CD inserts and sighing happily ... it was like a happy little sex-afterglow, and I HADN'T EVEN PLAYED A SINGLE SONG YET.

Nor would I for about 25 more hours, for, you see, my traveling companions were not exactly enamored of my selections, even if they did both seem to be entertained by how entertained I was by just HAVING new music. Indeed, I spent the remainder of the journey in largely uncommunicative communion with MY PRECIOUSES, and immediately upon our happy return home from the completion of the 2006 edition of the Most Excellent Annual Halloween Bash EVER, I threw my bags into my car, turned the volume knob waaaaaaay to the right, slid Sentenced into the CD player, and absorbed the sheer bliss that pumped out of the speakers, cleverly disguised as raucous guitar, raspy voice, and pounding drums.

Although I did feel a little sheepish when I noticed The ListMaker and her Lovely Boyfriend bobbing THEIR heads to the beat and laughing as I backed out of The ListMaker's driveway to head home. Only a little, though. ;)

I have listened to the entirety of all four albums now, and I am most enamored of Sentenced, although I enjoyed each of my four selections, and consider every one well worth its purchase price. I've absorbed the chill-inspiring lifts and twists of the tunes, I've basked in the audible massage of the drumming, and I've thrilled to the often emotionally-oppositional lyrics, where phrases like "When I am queen they all will see / The patron Saint of Self Injury," (Jack Off Jill, "When I Am Queen") "They all think that I am brave / The strongest link of our chain / But really I ... just want a bullet between my eyes" (Sentenced, "May Today Become The Day") are placed on a heavy background of upbeat and uplifting music.

(Interestingly, As I Lay Dying seems to use a mirrored approach, with uplifting lyrics and darker-toned tunes, emphasized most in the vocals. In Flames is generally dark, layering intricate vocal and lyrical obscurity over a veritable cheesecake of unique and complex guitar and drumwork. *dreamy sigh* They're my FAVORITE!)

Little Girl and I were talking about music the other day in the car, in anticipation of a certain country-music awards show that McCoy had informed me would be airing that evening—wow, country music AND Monday Night Football on the same day ... I was truly torn between two Hells—and Little Girl had wondered aloud whether the music she liked fit the genre.

"Well," I said, quickly warming up to a favorite topic of mine (MUSIC!), "music isn't always one thing or the other; sometimes it's a blend of styles. And it doesn't really matter what anyone else calls it, or even if anyone else likes it! If YOU like it, it means something to YOU, and it doesn't much matter if anyone else likes it after that ... not even if you're the only one."

"WELL," Little Girl responded pragmatically, "if I like it, I can't be the ONLY one who likes it, because the singer must like it, too."

It's really hard to argue with a literalist, and so I conceded with a laugh that she was clearly right, and she went on to discuss her singing abilities (poor child; she doesn't realize, yet, that she inherited her supposed "abilities" from ME) and express an interest in writing music of her own someday (which made me wonder: what IS the musical equivalent of long-winded blather?), and of course I told her she should try whatever interested her, and many, MANY of those things.

And as Jack Off Jill screeched into one of their less-than-operatic but more-than-poptastic scary-lyrics-over-happy-music, I really, deeply realized the truth of what I was saying ... and understood that it applied not only to Little Girl, but to me, too.

Rock on, Little Girl. You're already writing lyrics on my heart; putting them onto paper is gonna be cake and pie. ;)