Sound

If you know me well, you probably know how important recorded music is in my life.  

Ever since I had a paper route when I was a kid, I have spent a share of my earnings, regardless how meager, on an ever-growing collection of recordings.  Learning about pop music via WING radio’s Lou Swanson, Eddie Gale, and Gene ‘By Golly’ Barry, then buying some records, was the hip thing to do in the 1960s.  Whenever we went downtown, we’d walk by the studios on First Street to pick up the weekly top 40 survey and watch the jock behind the picture window spin wax and work his radio magic.  

Later on I graduated to recording music on reel-to-reel tapes.  First it was just albums, or maybe an evening session of ‘Wax Museum’ on WVUD FM.  Soon I realized I could create my own special mixes.  

Not long after, most music migrated to the eminently more portable cassette tape.  Played with those, too.  Then came digital where one listened to a silvery CD spinning away out of sight, inside a drawer, that produced near perfect sound.  No scratches.  Remember?  

Then music uploads onto computers and the ability to burn our own playlists in the CD format.  Find the right songs, mix liberally into a pleasant sequence, burn to CD, share with friends...  Now, of course, there’s iTunes and podcasts and internet streaming and, well, other stuff that even I don’t get.  

I know I’ve written about about my love of recorded music here at The Back Porch before, but today I’d like to focus on the actual listening to music.  

Much of the time, I think, we hear music in the car while conversation and traffic tension make it a challenge to actually listen.  Not optimum, to be sure.  Still, listening to music and riding in cars just kind of go together, you know?

Yes, I listen to music much here in my office while working, but I’ve taken up a new practice of listening to my music collections while reclined in bed.  I’ve got to tell you, I like it a lot. 

At times when I’ve shared one of my playlist collections with friends, I’ve encouraged them to wait to listen until an undisturbed hour is available for a sit in a comfortable chair, in the dark (candle recommended) -- maybe in a headset -- to let the music wash over them.  To me, the congruent message of the whole collection is like explicating a poem:  One listens to find ideas and melodies that dance inside that side of our brain that resounds in music.  Listening to a playlist at the computer with iTunes visualizer playing is pretty hip, too.  

But for me these days, it’s the dark room and sound.  Cindy isn’t so nuts about music and sleep, so I’ve set up the guest room with a couple of decent little speakers placed next to the bed.  I turn things down pretty far, yet high enough to feel the richness of instruments and voices.  I get comfortable and just listen.  In the dark, warm, and in the moment.  As you might imagine, I often fall asleep in the process.  I recommend it.  Works great mid-afternoon.

My newest cool thing is recording my original poetry in a song format that will play with the rest of my music collection.  Now I can insert my poems into collections of meaningful songs.  More on that later.

I do my best to stay grounded in life.  Listening to music in bed is part of that process for me these days.    

Today’s Elder Idea:  Learning about sex from porn is like learning about firearms from action movies.   

from ‘The absurd myths porn teaches us about sex’

Noah Brand and Ozy Frantz

AlterNet / posted 26 March 2012