Never Too Late

Through the Post-Idea-Man, I've discovered a number of bands/singers I've never heard of before. Now, know this isn't all that unusual of an occurance, since I've never been a music kind of chick. I'm a book and movies kind of chick.

Sure, in junior high I paid attention to the Top 40 and rocked out appropriately to Belinda Carlisle, Debbie Gibson, and Whitney Houston in high school. In college I did the REM and Pearl Jam thing, along with the rest of the flannel and Doc Marten free world. Back then, though, I was always in a cohort, always around people who did care about music and who by osmosis, mostly, kept me up-to-date. I had a friend at my summer job in college, Tracy, who brought me to Santana at Holman Stadium in Nashua, NH and Phish opened for them (it was 1992). And Josh, who went to the University of Richmond and took me one spring to see Dave Matthews at a small little venue two years before anyone else even knew who they were. Oh and seeing Guns n Roses with Metallica was the highlight of freshman year. (1992 was a big year.)

I've been in the adult world for the better part of 15 years (now that's scary in and of itself), largely without anyone who really digs music as my everyday friend. I've had a few over the years, like Melissa in LA who took me to Prince in the MGM Grand Ballroom in Vegas and Ray in LA who scored free tix to Barenaked Ladies at Universal Studios, invited me and I missed it because I was sick. I saw Beck in LA too, and loved every minute of that Hollywood Bowl show. I saw Lilith Fair two years in a row at the Rose Bowl. Wait, all of those examples were from LA and involved Ray and Melissa. I think after them, I've not had another music friend. Ever. Huh.

Mostly, though, I've just gone through life not really caring. I actually skip the music section in Entertainment Weekly even though I read every other page and every other article in the whole thing. Occasionally I come across some song I really dig, like Golddigger by Kanye or Yellow by Coldplay. Then I play it over and over and maybe even buy the disk it's on. I've probably bought 10 CDs, if that, over the past 12 years.

Assembly of Dust, Michael Franti/Spearhead, and Jack Johnson are the three bands/singers who I've learned to love recently through The S.M.E. (he needs some better nickname, this one is work-based). He has been sending me lists of songs to listen to, usually based on whatever he listened to that night or morning. I look to find them either on YouTube (did you know you can find TONS of songs on there?) or on Rhapsody and listen to them. Some I like, some I love and others I could do without. He introduced me a month ago to Dear Prudence, the Grateful Dead version, which I can't seem to find anywhere. Some artists, such as Jack Johnson, have all their music available for listening (not downloading) on their websites.

The S.M.E. has very broad and deep musical taste. (And there's room in his head, since he knows almost nothing of TV or movies and reads only occasionally and then nonfiction.) He loves the hippie crunch, the classic R & B, good old Jazz, rap and hip hop, sensitive ponytail man music, and indie "adult alternative". His little girl digs her some Soul Sister. He's got a diverse background geographically, culturally, and educationally, and this makes his music knowledge even better. He owns some insane number of CDs; 5000 maybe. He knows who Lori McKenna is, but couldn't identify Patrick Dempsey by name or show if his life depended on it.

I think my favorite three songs so far that he's introed me to are See You In the Light and Never Too Late by Michael Franti/Spearhead and Sometimes by Assembly of Dust. Jack Johnson can't really do any wrong. His songs are collectively pleasing and fun. Banana Pancakes? Only a 32-year-old Hawaiian songwriter with two little kids can get away with a love song revolving around staying in bed and eating pancakes. Beauty.

And, Idea Man isn't always consistent, so sometimes the song-of-the-day is a little puzzle. Sometimes all I get is the lyrics, pasted into an email, sans song title or artist. Good thing for Google, I tell you. Most of the time, just Googling a line of a song will bring a hit for the name of the song. Sometimes a trip to a lyrics search engine is necessary, but it's never taken me more than a few minutes to find them. And sometimes, if he's worried I might think the lyrics mean something profound as a message, he'll only send part of them, as if I can't find the rest. Silly man.

One of the many profound differences between he and I is that I, being book and script minded, love lyrics. I love the poetry of a song, the meaning of it, the way the words weave into a message for the listener. I've always loved lyrics. He, on the other hand, is much more driven by the beat, the actual music and the way a song travels through the air to the listener's ears. The lyrics almost don't matter most of the time. He plays a song for the shape of it, the way it makes him want to move. He can play a song on repeat for hours because the experience is about the sound and it doesn't get boring, the way someone focused on the lyrics might grow tired of the song after only a couple of plays.

All I know is that I feel fortunate to have someone in my life again who cares about music, who might bring me back to that world for a while. It'll never be a focus of mine, but I appreciate it enough to really enjoy the ride when someone else is driving.