driving from texas into new mexico, my family would cross the border at farwell, follow 84 through clovis and fort sumner, and on up to I-40. 40 leads right into albuquerque, where my granddad used to live. my family would usually drive out there in the summer and every other christmas. maybe its because its a fairly epic road trip to take in one day, (starting from rising star, texas, then sweetwater, carbon, bryan and finally richards) that makes these memories stand out in general. beginning sometimes before dawn even broke. my dad and his coffee, we kids piled in the back seat with our pillows, ready to fall asleep again as soon as we were on the road. im not even sure how old i was when all this began, or how old i was when the following memory happened, and to be quite honest, it may have been one time, or an amalgamation of memories that i recall, but somewhere between moriarty, and albuquerque, you start to go up into the mountains. and like i said, i was young, and this was the end of a very long day, so typically we kids were asleep at this point in the evening. to make it better, i dont remember music playing the entire rest of the journey. but going through that mountain pass, the pressure change going into the mountains would always wake me up, and i swear, every single time i would wake up in those mountains, 'ring of fire' would be playing. those trumpets, that deep voice, the epic swell of the chorus as johnny cash recounted over and over how he fell into that burning ring. none of it really really made sense, but i liked it.
the biggest question that haunts me, when it comes to my memories, is time. the aforementioned may have been my earliest memory. or perhaps it was when i was riding with my dad in his little yellow truck out to his mothers house one spring morning and, like you do, we were singing hymns. my dad in his earth shaking baritone, and me trying to be as manly and like my dad as is possible at however old i was at the time. four, maybe. the two hymns i most equate with my father, out of all the hundreds that were played in church week after week for the first 19 years of my life, are 'when the roll is called up yonder' and 'on jordan's stormy banks'. not knowing what a yonder was or why it was rolling can make for some pretty interesting visual images for a kid. especially paired with morning breaks, trumpets sounding, and the dead rising. im not sure if thats why i remember that particular song from that period of my life, but the latter has a much more specific memory attached to it. as i said, my dad and i were headed out to my grandmothers on a crisp fall morning singing, 'on jordan's stormy banks i stand and cast a wishful eye...' at some point my dad asked me or i asked him what a wishful eye was. like i said, i was four, maybe. he pulled the truck over and pointed off in the distance, he swore he could see my grandmother's barn from where we were and said he wished he was there, and thats what having a wishful eye was. i couldnt see it, and i think it wound up frustrating him, but i got the point, and he got to be apart of another of my earliest memories. more importantly to you dear reader, it may have been the first song that i really began to understand the words to. songs were no longer just words i didnt know set to a melody that made me feel epic on sunday mornings, when 20 to 30 voices in unison would make that spot deep inside my chest swell up, and make me want to join in the cacophonous beauty. i began to think about what i was singing. not critically mind you, i was just aware of it, and usually accepted it.
johnny horton didnt come too far behind johnny cash and the hymns. 'the battle of new orleans' could probably be considered the theme song to my childhood. i would act out the words as best i could, listening to the song over and over off my dads tape, making my own little music video, if you will. this was probably where my patriotism and love for the army began. a love affair that lasted until i saw those plastic starships in service merchandise one evening and was immediately turned into a trekkie. but thats a whole other story. my dad watched war movies, so i watched war movies. the ones about the civil war usually had music where they would sing at least on the sound track, if not have a part where the soldiers would be singing along. i would listen, pause, write the words. listen, pause, write the words, until i had the song down. thats what caught my attention next, a natural progression i suppose, but i learned songs from the civil war. 'the yellow rose of texas', 'dixie', 'the battle hymn of the republic'. i loved that that one was in the hymnal at church too. i remember the music more than the movies i think. but if i didnt, this little anecdote wouldnt be very relevant in this particular situation would it?
thank you dear readers
11.01.2009
sweet dudes and ladies (part 1)
as i was showering today, i started thinking about music and a question that i heard in an interview with adam horowitz. i will try to answer the question directly and at a later date go into an in depth review of my musical progression. if you'll take a moment with me, like driving, ive found that writing is best done with a soundtrack, so if you'll hold on just one moment. and there we go. now we may begin.
to the original question, friends. it has something to do with a shift in prespective. a monument in time, if you will, around which everything else in the past revolves. the interviewer gave an example of a man he had met once who when telling stories about the past, always time-stamped his thoughts with it either being 'before the riots', or 'after the riots'. the question to adam horowitz was if there a similar moment that has shaped his musical life. at least, thats to the best of my memory what was going on. this of course got me to thinking about moments in my own life that have shaped the one constant throughout all of my remembered existance, music. as the water began to run cold and i hurried to wash the rest of the soap out of my hair, the most single defining moment that popped into my head wasnt my discovery of punk rock, hardcore, picking up a guitar for the first time or even when i wrote my first song, it was me in the computer lab late one night at sam houston state university, xanga creeping and found a picture on a friend of a friend's xanga of a band that id never heard or even heard of, but just from the one picture of these sweet dudes and ladies in mid song, drawing the beauty of the heavens down and sharing them with we, mere mortals. we, humble purveyors of mediocrity. we, the unwashed masses. it was more than a picture, it was a love affair with my eyes. it spoke of all the energy and simplicity that id been on a search for my entire life, tho i may not have known it. and also dear readers, i did not fully realize what this picture ment. unlike columbus thinking hed sailed clear around the world and found a shorter way to india, (however wrong he may have been) i had no idea what this land that i was looking at was supposed to be. some magical land, full of strange wonders and excitements. knowing only that i didnt know what it was that i needed, but i needed it, and this was the place to find it. this was my first reaction to a picture of the band 'defiance, ohio'. very shortly after that, i found some of their music online and consumated my relationship with this band. a love affair that i belive, sparked a change in the way i looked at music and all of its ins and outs. a change that you can draw lines from my actions, decisions, and the music i make itself even now, straight back to that one glorious evening. the simplicity of accoustic instruments, the raw passion shown in their faces and heard in their voices. the intelligent simplicity of the lyrics. another musical world was opened to me that evening, and ive never been the same since.
there is much about this transformation that i still don't fully understand. it's much easier shown than spoken. its not that 'diy' was new to me. i knew what house shows were. it's much deeper than that. the combination of the anger and power of punk mixed with the singability and relation to whoever may be listening of folk music was what ultimately blew my mind. singing about loving a cause but hating the others that stand beside you, and being scared to dance at a show infront of other people were things i'd never heard sung before. things that i could relate to on a very personal level but to some extent thought i was alone in feeling. had i really thought about it, i would have known that i wasn't alone, but it felt good to finally have someone sing this to me. also, a huge part of it was that these were ordinary people. there was no real way to idolize these people when you saw how human they really were. what drew me to punk in the first place was that i knew i could do it. i learned how to play guitar to the ramones. it was fun, fast and simple. this was fun, fast, and simple, but also real in a new way. i could pick up my acoustic guitar and bang out three chords without having to go thru the hassle of band practice. dont get me wrong, i would still much rather play with other people, but now, were the people not avaliable, i could still have my punk rock.
but this is not where my love of music began, sirs and ladies. for that we will have to go back to one of my earliest memories that ive ever been able to recover, johnny cash singing about a ring of fire. but that will have to wait untill next time.
thank you dear readers
to the original question, friends. it has something to do with a shift in prespective. a monument in time, if you will, around which everything else in the past revolves. the interviewer gave an example of a man he had met once who when telling stories about the past, always time-stamped his thoughts with it either being 'before the riots', or 'after the riots'. the question to adam horowitz was if there a similar moment that has shaped his musical life. at least, thats to the best of my memory what was going on. this of course got me to thinking about moments in my own life that have shaped the one constant throughout all of my remembered existance, music. as the water began to run cold and i hurried to wash the rest of the soap out of my hair, the most single defining moment that popped into my head wasnt my discovery of punk rock, hardcore, picking up a guitar for the first time or even when i wrote my first song, it was me in the computer lab late one night at sam houston state university, xanga creeping and found a picture on a friend of a friend's xanga of a band that id never heard or even heard of, but just from the one picture of these sweet dudes and ladies in mid song, drawing the beauty of the heavens down and sharing them with we, mere mortals. we, humble purveyors of mediocrity. we, the unwashed masses. it was more than a picture, it was a love affair with my eyes. it spoke of all the energy and simplicity that id been on a search for my entire life, tho i may not have known it. and also dear readers, i did not fully realize what this picture ment. unlike columbus thinking hed sailed clear around the world and found a shorter way to india, (however wrong he may have been) i had no idea what this land that i was looking at was supposed to be. some magical land, full of strange wonders and excitements. knowing only that i didnt know what it was that i needed, but i needed it, and this was the place to find it. this was my first reaction to a picture of the band 'defiance, ohio'. very shortly after that, i found some of their music online and consumated my relationship with this band. a love affair that i belive, sparked a change in the way i looked at music and all of its ins and outs. a change that you can draw lines from my actions, decisions, and the music i make itself even now, straight back to that one glorious evening. the simplicity of accoustic instruments, the raw passion shown in their faces and heard in their voices. the intelligent simplicity of the lyrics. another musical world was opened to me that evening, and ive never been the same since.
there is much about this transformation that i still don't fully understand. it's much easier shown than spoken. its not that 'diy' was new to me. i knew what house shows were. it's much deeper than that. the combination of the anger and power of punk mixed with the singability and relation to whoever may be listening of folk music was what ultimately blew my mind. singing about loving a cause but hating the others that stand beside you, and being scared to dance at a show infront of other people were things i'd never heard sung before. things that i could relate to on a very personal level but to some extent thought i was alone in feeling. had i really thought about it, i would have known that i wasn't alone, but it felt good to finally have someone sing this to me. also, a huge part of it was that these were ordinary people. there was no real way to idolize these people when you saw how human they really were. what drew me to punk in the first place was that i knew i could do it. i learned how to play guitar to the ramones. it was fun, fast and simple. this was fun, fast, and simple, but also real in a new way. i could pick up my acoustic guitar and bang out three chords without having to go thru the hassle of band practice. dont get me wrong, i would still much rather play with other people, but now, were the people not avaliable, i could still have my punk rock.
but this is not where my love of music began, sirs and ladies. for that we will have to go back to one of my earliest memories that ive ever been able to recover, johnny cash singing about a ring of fire. but that will have to wait untill next time.
thank you dear readers
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