April 13, 2008

The Evolution Of A Musical Zealot

People who know me well (and well, even the ones who don’t), know that I’m something of a musical zealot. I don’t just like music, I absorb it. Where the average person may just turn up the volume when they hear that special song, I tend to take names, conduct piles of research and eventually, begin to download or order anything I can get my hands on.

It’s sickening.

I blame my parents. Mom and dad also loved music. Mom had a penchant for traditional singers like Patsy Cline and Doris Day. She tended toward more country so naturally, Dolly Parton, Juice Newton, Loretta Lynn and Crystal Gayle were in there too. Dad was a bit more broad, exposing me to artists like Simon & Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, the Doobie Brothers, Billy Joel and even Sheena Easton.

But nobody seemed to impress me more than Annie Lennox.

My father had only two albums by Eurythmics: 1983’s Touch and 1986’s Revenge - on cassette, of course. I gravitated toward both equally, mesmerized by Annie’s intensely polished appearance and her beautiful voice. I vividly remember watching the video to Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) and thinking how bizarre this woman was. And when she flared her eyes and bared her teeth… she intrigued and frightened me at the same time.

From there, my tastes went to the ladies of the 80’s. Yes, I was admittedly a fan of Janet Jackson’s Control and Rhythm Nation 1814 and later, Paula Abdul’s Forever Your Girl , despite the fact neither can sing very well. But back then, it was all about the dancing. Singing was just an obligatory part of the package.

When the 90’s emerged, I went through what I now refer to as my ‘guilty pleasure’ phase. One-hit wonders like Tara Kemp, En Vogue and Crystal Waters (okay, maybe she’s a two-hit wonder) were playing through my speakers. There was also a strong Wilson Phillips era too, as I recall.

But when I started high school in 1991, I quickly learned that young white guys weren’t supposed to like music by female pop artists. My friends back then were all about Metallica, White Zombie, Nirvana, Faith No More and Ministry. I just thought bands like that were loud and that was about it. But eventually, as through osmosis, I started to listen to them too, eventually all but abandoning my love for pop.

Then came 1993 and 1994. A friend from my art class introduced me to an album called Exile In Guyville by Liz Phair. The songs were lo-fi and strange; it was nothing I had heard before and initially, I just didn’t ‘get it.’ But through forced, repeated listens, Liz and I became real good friends. I began to realize just how much more satisfying it was for me to listen to music that was written by the actual artist. When Liz’s second album, Whip-Smart, came out the following year, our love was solidified.

Liz Phair had opened the door to more ‘alternative’ music for me. Lisa Germano, Sam Phillips and Aimee Mann became stand outs for me. As did Polly Jean Harvey, Heather Nova, Suzanne Vega, Jill Sobule, Sheryl Crow and Ani DiFranco. Then in 1995, when everyone seemed to flock to Alanis Morissette, I found myself surrounded by the wave of female singer-songwriters that were traveling closely behind: artists like Jen Trynin, Tracy Bonham and Lesley Rankine of Ruby.

In 1996, I discovered my next love: Patty Griffin. Hers was a voice I couldn’t say no to. She had the uncanny ability to tell the most beautiful stories about ordinary people. And her Living With Ghosts , with its bare arrangement of just Patty and her acoustic guitar, gives me chills every time.

The rest of the nineties were full of new discoveries, but my love for female singer-songwriters remained true and does so to this day.

Despite my broadened musical horizons, I had developed a slight, snobbish attitude to most commercial music, as I found it generally disposable and saccharine. It’s funny that now, years later, I’ll catch myself downloading the occasional top 10 track just because I find it infectious for the moment.

This year, I have even become engrossed in the latest season of American Idol, a show I used to despise. For some reason though, I find this season’s contestants fresh and immensely talented. Sure, some have had brushes with the business before, but this show will almost guarantee them some success.

These days, while I don’t buy as many CDs anymore, my digital collection is growing exponentially. I love the fact that music is evolving the way it is. How amazing is it that you don’t have to leave your living room in order to find your favorite song of the moment? Everything is available at your fingertips.

Music is just one of those great parts of life. Every song has its story and every story is different to whomever listens to it. Music is the time machine that takes you back to relive the good times and the bad times. It reminds you of some place or someone. It can command your mood and your body. And like food, it’s a fuel that can keep you going. It’s rare to find something so powerful.