Music Between Friends is two years old now, which means we’re teething, drooling, and causing general mischief with cereal.
In my first post, which was written exactly two years ago, I wrote about Vetiver, Hey Champ, Sleigh Bells, and Sonny and the Sunsets. Even now, I listen to all of those songs and they still feel as fresh as they did then.
It’s strange how some songs grow stale whereas some remain timeless.
I’ve been really busy for the last few months. I took up yoga three times a week. I’ve been running at sunset and dawn. I knitted a scarf (not just a dog-sized one) and I’M GONNA KNIT MORE. I remembered how to tell jokes (I had been doing that thing where you think that you’re a funny person, but then you realize that you’ve been stiff and weird and severe as a widow’s peak with a pole up its butt).
Somehow over the last year, I learned to assert myself. I used to be scared of trying to understand myself and the way my brain works sometimes. I still get scared, but at least I can deal with the fact that I’m shitting bricks, and maybe one day I’ll be productive and learn to build a brickhouse.
I used to think that maybe I wasn’t cool enough, but then I realized that everything I thought was cool wasn’t really cool anymore, and that I’d never be current enough to be a trending topic.
Trying to figure out what’s hip is about as easy as going back in time (an apt metaphor, since all you have to do to predict clothing and music trends is begin traveling backwards, starting with 90’s hip hop and swimming slowly through the eighties and seventies and beyond (keep dreaming steampunk. It’s never gonna happen.)
I used to use music as escapism; I’d put on a good song and it would make me feel less miserable, less manic, less anxious, less disturbed, less jittery. I still use music as a low grade, over-the-counter drug, especially when I’m running that sixth kilometer, or I’m lying in a pile of dirty laundry surrounded by electronic devices and Cheestring wrappers.
I’d like to celebrate two years with an “I’m still here!” moment. I changed cities, I changed jobs, I changed friends, but my music taste has remained consistent. I still like the undefinable, the indefinite, the ambiguous “Indie Music” that brings hordes of deliberately-dressed twenty-somethings into basements soaked with beer and chopped haircuts and thrift store t-shirts, collectively standing but not quite touching because that would involve actually connecting with another human being.
So here’s to two years. This blog is still here. I’m growing up and it’s harder to write short one-off posts. It’s even hard when all of your fan mail comes from musicians trying to get featured. (Really, I just do this for fun! I’m not one of those stay-at-home moms who makes a thousand dollars a week from Google Belly Flab Secret Teeth Whitening)