I guess I'm ridiculously post-happy today, and should probably stay in here before I start any more fires I can't extinguish.
I recently rebuilt my iPod playlist from scratch. I was afraid to update it for so long because all of my music files are on a computer in New York. All I have is what I've burned on my laptop in the last few months and an external hard drive containing mostly Gus's music.
Gus has some pretty good stuff, but he also has a lot of indie rock that's all the rage with the kids up here. Some of it okay, but most of it sounds like crap to me. Add that to the fact that I'm trying to run at least six miles, and it makes perfect sense that I don't want to hear some whiny nerd trying to mix metaphors to the same three guitar chords for an hour.
As a sidenote, I hate Rainer Maria and Rilo Kiley so much, I'm surprised the hipsters in Capitol Hill haven't chased me into the Sound in a mass mob carrying torches and pitchforks.
Anyway, putting a whole new set of music on your iPod and basking in your glorious efforts shortly thereafter is a beautiful feeling. It's like waking up a little earlier than you had to for no reason to watch a clear, technicolor sunrise. You know what a sunrise looks like, but to be present for one, to recognize its beauty and the beauty of the moment in which you're standing there... soul-warming.
On that note, I think I'll go take my hippie ass to the gym now.
When I did college radio, people asked me to post playlists. I didn't want to mess with it. Now I'm listening to college radio, and this dj doesn't want to mess with it either. Hhhmmmph.
In her infinite awesomeness, April invited me to tag along on her date last night and I saw this chick play at Rendezvous. Best female 8-bit performance EVAR!
I haven't touched the contents of my iPod since I left New York, since many of the tracks on my current playlist are in my home PC thousands of miles away. Thus my workout routine sounds like Clear Channel had a dance station and never updated the program log.
Fortunately, my Sidekick LX, which I love more than almost everything in the whole world has a built-in mp3 player, to which I can upload about 20 songs. For awhile, I'd been seeking tunes I had previously downloaded without giving a good listen and playing "getting to know you" with a few particular albums. Upon doing so, I was able to attach all kinds of profound meaning from my life to these songs. Whenever something big happens, I like to make a soundtrack from it. A really hard-hitting, poignant soundtrack. It used to be in the tangible format of a cd, something to moan to while speeding down Braker Lane with the top down. But having reduced the clutter in my life about 90 percent by moving (including the car, making the moaning a little more conspicuous), all my soundtracks are now disposable, leaving the Sidekick as easily as they entered.
I'm tired of attaching meaning to everything. This morning I listened to NIN's Halo 2 while I got ready and let my mind go blank. I uploaded "Drown" by the Smashing Pumpkins, "The Land of Green Ginger" by the Orb, "Wig Out" by Tipsy, "Pure Imagination" by the Smoking Popes... These songs, they mean nothing. A long guitar solo, a story told by electronics, a mind-bending romp in the islands, a punk band's interpretation of a children's song... They mean nothing, they just are. I'm not trying to talk them down or say they're meaningless; they're all beautiful songs. No matter how often or when I listen to them, they are absolved from the thankless task of pointing to some signifigant time in my existence, which will not likely be remembered fondly.
You lucky songs, you.
I wonder if they'll sit in my phone long enough for something big to happen in order to garner some meaning. Rather, will something even bigger happen before I have a chance to get sick of hearing all these songs (again)?
No, this is nothing-time. I want for it to be nothing-time so badly, I can taste it.
I don't know if I'm luckier now than I was 10 years ago. I think I am equally cold though.
Addendum: Okay, okay. My current playlist also includes "Isobel" by Bjork (Deodato Mix), "Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell" by the Flaming Lips (Ego in Acceleration Mix), and "Last Tango in Paris" by the Gotan Project. They've both conjured and created memories already, and it hasn't even been that long. I'm a sentimental fool. I admit it! If my peers ever felt like beating me up after work for being emo, I would let them.
