What music I like, you may not. Our experiences, friends and families all influence and shape our musical tastes. Music is the soul's food. All cultures have a place for music.
Dancing is innate in us all. We may not all think we have the skill for dancing, but rhythm is natural. Children will, uncoaxed, start bopping soon after they can toddle. I think we either unlearn our connection with rhythm, or our learnt insecurities become stronger and we stop dancing for fear that others can see us or that we're doing it wrong. But there is no wrong. Dancing is individual. It can be ethereal. It can be understated. It can be romantic. It can be wild, tribal, raw. But it can't be wrong.
So, what do our soundtracks say about us? Some songs replay our vulnerabilities, some our sense of injustice. Others echo of the times when we are bursting with happiness or aching in sorrow.
So, what's my soundtrack? The trigger songs in my life will be powerful to my life, but only a murmur on yours.
I'll start at the beginning. The beginning is always a great place to start.
The day I first drew breath, the UK number one was The Odyssey's "Use it Up and Wear it Out". I didn't know this. Just googled it. But it does make sense. I was born a week early. Which means I should have been born a week later when Abba's "Winner Takes it All" was number one. Well, that figures. I am not renowned for my luckiness. Of course I wasn't born in the "winners" week. Although, at least I can take solace in the fact that Calvin Harris, has, apparently, got love for me "cos I was born in the 80s".
I don't really remember any music as a child until quite a few songs come into my memory all at once. I'm not sure what was first as memories that young are kind of fuzzy and blurred round the edges. I remember Dr and the Medics "Spirit in the Sky" as one of the first songs, closely followed by the "Reet Petite" song by Jackie Wilson. I even remember the video for that with trumpets.
Then a little later, I become aware of my parents music. Hence began my love for Billy Joel (my favourites are 'Vienna', 'The Longest Time' and 'The Stranger') and then the "Sad Songs" era of Elton John. Oh and the 'Betty and Al' song by Simon or Garfunkle not sure which but I think it wasn't them both. We later named our kittens Betty and Al, so the song was a favourite with us kids.
I didn't quite get the radio back then, wondering why mum couldn't put Radio Gaga back on. She'd say she didn't have it. Which confused me because I'd just heard it, so how could she not have it? Answer: it was on the radio.
Don't tell anyone, but my first album I bought (on tape) was Kylie Minogue's first album. I felt so proud owning my own music. Until I lost it. Or my sister hid it? Either way I found this album about a decade later behind the washing machine. Probably the best place for it.
My first CD, I am more proud of. It was 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. So cool, well done 13/14 year old me. My sister was a big influence on my musical tastes. Not all, but most of my early music was the same kind of music as hers.
Then came Britpop. I was a big big indie fan. At 14 I used to save my £1 lunch money each day to save up till I could either afford a new album or tickets for a gig. I would then climb over the school fence at lunchtime and escape uptown to BeeBees music shop to get "something". Probably a 7" limited edition vinyl or something else I just had to have. My best friend and I were the only kids in class who were constantly being asked to remove our music badges from our ties. I slowly became the proud owner of quite a collection of band skinny tees, my favourite being my [sleeper] tee. I wanted to be Louise Wener of [sleeper]. She was just too cool.
This point in my life was all about Suede's 'Stay Together', [sleeper]'s 'What Do I Do Now?' and then of course, while we were away on our Geography exchange trip in Holland, I had Blind Melon's 'Change' and 'Holyman' as my constant background on my Walkman on all the day trips. 'Change' is the ultimate teenager song - feeling awkward in the present, feeling disapproval every which way you turn, then realising that you have a place in the future, so let's "write our words on the face of today" knowing that even that was only temporary, cos then "they'll paint it". Sometimes, I would throw in a little bit of The Offspring. Well, the 'Self Esteem' song in particular. The lyrics were a little bit too adult for me looking back, but I sang along to it all the same.
My gigging got more frequent as I took my A levels, and the V festival became a regular feature of my year.
So, Alanis Morrissette's "Perfect" sums up how J, R and I were brought up. I'm not saying we were perfect, you need to listen to the lyrics to understand. The strange thing about childhoods is that we all think nothing of it, that nothing odd happened in ours. Until you to talk to other people. Yeah, then your childhood suddenly clarifies into crazy.
My first year of uni saw me waking each morning, throwing open my halls of residence window, and listening to 'You've got the Music in You" by The New Radicals followed very closely by '1999' by Cassius. Second year was full of cheesy club music as my gay best friend dragged me round Londons gay clubs. Third year I lived in Brixton with The Brixton Academy just round the corner, at that point I didn't realise how many times I'd later catch the train in to London to trek back across the city to this exact spot. It's funny how quickly the familiar fades.
My twenties seemed to coast. Nothing particularly exciting music wise seemed to happen. Except for the shared love my sister J and I developed for a certain Mary J Blige. One song ruined me in particular. I was alone on a flight across the Atlantic, shortly after my Grandad had suddenly died, listening to the inflight radio when 'No More Drama' came on. And I cried for him. It's not even a song about family. It's about letting go of things that bring you pain and learning to count on yourself: "I don't know, only God knows where the story ends for me, but I know where the story begins, it's up to us to choose whether we win or lose - and I choose to win". Mary was also possibly the best live show I ever went to. Of course, J was right there with me.
Fast forward a little to the song that broke my heart, when we so very almost lost H. Music can be so powerful for years I simply could not cope with hearing Evanescence's "My Immortal". That song haunted me. It haunts me still.
My invincible song is Razorlight's "Golden Touch" it's not the lyrics, it was about the moment. I was freer than I had ever felt, standing on my own, early morning with the whole of a Maldivian beach to myself, the Indian Ocean's beautiful expanse in front of me, complete serenity. Me, Razorlight, ocean, peace. Nothing. Else. Mattered.
I'm not a big fan of classical, but I am in love with "Air on the G String" by Bach. I play this song when it is a beautiful summers day and I'm on my own driving somewhere. It has to be loud. It has to be sunny. You also have to have the window open, your sunnies on and your hair down. And the view needs to be pretty. Rolling hills will suffice. With all these satisfied, I don't think any song can beat the rise I feel in my soul, in my being when the strings kick in. Oh, and did I mention you need to be driving fast?
Ok fast forward again, a seriously unhappy-in-my-job-me, actually quit my job because a (don't laugh now) Mika song told me "don't scream there are so many roads left, for there is nothing that we can't fix", well at least that's what I thought the lyrics were until just now when I youtubed it two minutes ago and found out that the actual words are "for there is nothing that we can do". Oh. My. Days. I quit my job on my misunderstanding on some Mika lyrics. Lol! What else can I say other than I was desperate. I actually prefer my version. It's stronger. And I left. And got a raa new job. Thank you Mika (kind of). Anyway, let's move on.
Ok, another sunny day one now. But this time you have to lay on your back on the grass, and close your eyes and concentrate on the heat of the sun on your eyelids. There has to be no one and nothing near you. Except perhaps a plane practicing loop-de-loops in the sky above. Then get headphones. This song needs to be in your head. It's the dreamiest song ever and transports me far far places. Nowhere in particular, just makes me feel like I'm floating. It is, of course, Goldfrapp's "Black Cherry".
Fast forward time again, to Beyonce's "Halo", Amy McDonald's "Spark" and Mary J Blige's "Each Tear". Enough said.
The next few years which will bring us bang up to date could be filled with hundreds of songs. Too many to list. Each different. Each bringing me one step nearer to where I am today.
Amongst them all, Labyrinth and Emili Sande's collaboration on "Beneath your Beautiful", Terrence Trent Derby's "Holding on to You", Rihanna's "We All Want Love", The Black Keys "The Only One" and Penny and the Quarters "You and Me" stand out as pure happiness.
I could write this post forever. I mean actually forever. I don't actually want to finish it. Music is so vitally important to how I feel and process thoughts it feels like I've just turned myself inside out in this blog.
But I guess that's what a blog entitled "Internal Monologues..." should be all about.
