Soundtrack of my Life

Music. Life without music would be, what….pointless? drudgery? dry as a desert ? Music can fill me up and bring me to tears. Or make me feel melancholy, lazy, inspired, joyful, heartbroken, ecstatic!! Sometimes I can’t stop myself from dancing, or at least moving to the beat, even if it is NSYNC and I am in the dairy aisle at Walmart. Music is life.

Growing up, we weren’t really a musical family, but there was always music in our house. Classical, opera and jazz were our parents choices. There were a few albums that were specifically for us when we were children. We had a Pete Seeger album of children’s music, and some Woodie Guthrie, so we were introduced to American Folk music, and equally important, protest songs and anti fascist anthems at an early age. The wonderful Peter and the Wolf was a favourite. I am not sure who the narrator was on our album, but the music and story were absolutely captivating, while teaching us about the different instruments that make up an orchestra. Very sneaky, Prokofiev. The strings introducing Peter take me back to our living room in Berkeley, gathered with my sisters, sprawling on the well used Persian carpet, completely focussed on the familiar and much loved tale. Music does that. It can transport you to other times and places. Songs can bring feelings of joy or loss, memories imprinted and buried, brought back to the surface by a few familiar bars. The feelings come before the brain even registers what we are listening to. Like magic.

I think I was the first in our family to get caught up in the beginnings of pop music in the early 60s. I remember begging my father for the first Beatles album released in North America. I was seven years old, not sure how I became aware of their music, but I was an instant fangirl! My dad was a jazz aficionado and took music, and most of life, very seriously. He was disappointed in my choice and told me, “Those Beatles stink like dirty socks!” He did, of course, relent, and buy it for me, and eventually came around to appreciate the genius of the fab four. He even claimed Blackbird by Paul McCartney to be one of his favourite songs.

When I was around ten I got a transistor radio, probably as a gift from the parents. We were living in Toronto by then and whenever I was by myself I had that thing glued to my ear, CHUM AM playing full blast. I loved The Monkees, The Stones, The Supremes, and of course, the Beatles. The first 45 I bought with my own money was Windy, by The Association, which seems a little lame now. I also was super attracted to Tom Jones, and even weirder, Andy Williams. But what a fabulous time to have my own radio and be able to listen to the top ten in the privacy of my own head. Motown was hot. British pop was flooding the airwaves. The Doors and Jefferson Airplane gave a little nudge to my rebellious side. Fifty five years later and I still listen to many of those artists. Aretha, Van, Marvin, yep, we are on a first name basis

And then came the 70s, and disco. I admit to dancing under the strobes to Donna Summer and Gloria Gaynor in some cavernous bars in Toronto, a little drunk and just grooving to the music. When I moved to Portugal, discos were different. They were dark and dusty nightclubs, open till dawn, with the walls covered in floor to ceiling speakers and graffiti, low lit bars tucked in the corners. After my shift at the pub ended we would head to Zapata’s, our local, and dance the night away. I remember just standing in the middle of the dance floor, with the perfect amount of booze and whatever the drug du jour was coursing through my body, and absorbing the deafeningly loud “In The Air Tonight” by Phil Collins. That build up, the teasing, then explosion of percussion. Almost orgasmic.

In 1980 I went backpacking through the Indian Subcontinent, bringing a few cassettes with me. I bought a new gadget called a “Walkman” in a stopover in Hong Kong. The album Fear of Music from The Talking Heads and a little Hank Williams got me through some pretty extreme highs and lows on that trip. I recall chilling on a beach somewhere in India, listening to my tunes, and I was suddenly surrounded a gaggle of curious schoolgirls, in uniform, staring and giggling. They were entranced by my headphones. Life During Wartime was playing. I took off the headset and they respectfully passed them around and put them on. A look of amazement came on their face when they heard big sounds, directly into their ears. “This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around” They loved it. David Byrne, the great connector.

I still listen to that song “In the Air Tonight” a lot. Usually when I am driving. Also Sinead O’Conner, “I Stand on Your Grave”. And “Madman Across The Water” by Elton John. Songs that build the tempo and tension, and then…..I just feel it so much and all alone in my car, I just let it happen. Pure joy.

So many other amazing artists have touched and inspired me. Thank you Jack Johnson for keeping me company on many lonely days, and being an all round cool guy and protector of our planet. Thank you Bonnie Raitt, Annie Lennox, Aretha Franklin for being strong and loud. Thank you John Prine for being wise and funny. Thank you Blue Rodeo and Handsome Ned for being part of my life when music was my life. Thank you Brazil and Cuba for giving us so many beautiful beats. Manu Chao, you are a brilliant. And Playing for Change, you have changed me. I love you and all you do too much.

I know that I am a taker and not a giver in the world of music. I am grateful for all the beautiful sounds that lift me and teach me and make me want to move!