The author reflects on the role of music in friendships and personal history, sharing a playlist of songs that evoke past road trips and the transformative experience of a recent music festival.
Abstract
In a nostalgic piece, the author discusses the power of music to connect us to our past, using the example of a playlist that reminds him of youthful adventures with friends. He recounts how a Facebook post about a friend's travels during the pandemic led him to realize the enduring presence of music in his life. The article highlights five songs from bands like Screeching Weasel, Bad Religion, The Mr. T Experience, Jawbreaker, and J. Church, which were significant during his formative years. The author also shares his experience at Riot Fest, where he saw Jawbreaker perform after a long hiatus, an event that reignited the joy and carefreeness of his younger days. The piece concludes with an invitation for readers to share their current music discoveries and acknowledges the contributions of various writers to the music community.
Opinions
The author has a complex relationship with Facebook, recognizing its flaws but also its ability to evoke nostalgia and connect with friends.
Music is portrayed as a timeless companion that has the power to bring back memories and emotions from different stages of life.
The author values the personal connection and down-to-earth nature of musicians, particularly recalling a positive interaction with Jawbreaker.
There is a sense of loss and nostalgia for bands that disbanded or members who passed away, such as Lance Hahn of J. Church.
The author expresses gratitude to the music community and encourages engagement and the sharing of music recommendations among readers.
The Riot Fest experience is highlighted as a significant and emotionally charged event, underscoring the impact of live music performances.
Music
This Week’s Heavy Rotation #37
5 songs to make your playlists come alive
Photo: Author’s collection
Note: Each week I take a look back at my playlists and share songs that were either played the most, got stuck in my head, or just stood out. Many are new to me, but there are old faves mixed in as well.
I don’t like Facebook.
That’s a cheap statement to make in 2021, I know. Gone are the days of looking at cat memes and “name your 100 favorite songs” games. Today it’s a wasteland of thought crime and a huge driver of what’s been called the menace economy.
Again, I know that’s not exactly revelatory.
I don’t have it on my phone. For the desktop, I installed theNewsfeed Eradicator, and stripped 99% of my posts off of the platform. I then went and unfollowed almost everyone, save for a handful of close family. Of the 10ish I still actively follow, two live with me.
And yet, every so often, it offers up something of value — a glimpse of it’s former self.
I found myself on there last week (truck shopping with my son on Marketplace, which is both terrifying and a story for another day) when a post popped up reminding me that my friend Matt had visited exactly a year ago.
After selling his house and winding down his business, he has been spending the pandemic out on the road, leading the itinerant life many of us dream about but rarely execute.
He’s always had a fondness for driving, for the open road. Thirty years ago, we would all pile in his car for spontaneous trips to places like Olympia or Eugene. Fueled on a steady diet of coffee, cheap cigarettes, and a good dose of wanderlust, we’d head out — often to catch a show, but sometimes just to go.
And there was music. Always music.
And so it was a bit of a happy accident as I looked at my playlists this week- the music I played the most reflects a lot of what we all were listening on the road all those lifetimes ago.
It’s strange how friendships and music can both draw a throughline through the onslaught of time.
I’m still on the road a lot today, but things look a lot different. The coffee’s still there, but the smokes and fast food wrappers are long gone, replaced by pairs of cleats and empty Gatorade bottles. And we often leave the house at the same hour I used to get in.
But there’s music. Always music.
Screeching Weasel- It’s All In My Head
I don’t know how Screeching Weasel first found their way to our block. Maybe Flipside magazine? KBOO — the closest thing we had to college radio back then? Maybe it was just word of mouth from a friend of a friend of friend. That’s what “music discovery” looked like in the days before algorithms.
No matter. Once in, they never really left. This is off 1993’s Wiggle, the band’s 5th studio album.
Supposedly, lead singer Ben Weasel and I live in the same town. I’ll keep an eye out.
Bad Religion-Atomic Garden
Every car in my neighborhood had at least one Bad Religion cassette in the glove box, under the seat, wherever. Greg Graffin and co. provided the soundtrack — and energy — for many late drives up and down I-5, I-205, and I-84.
The Mr. T Experience- Love American Style
I can’t tell you a single thing about this band. I don’t remember any of the other tracks on Milk Milk Lemonade, or much at all about their other records.
What I can tell you is that we all played the sh*t out of this song….and I had the Six Million Dollar Man lunch box on the upper right of the album cover.
Jawbreaker-The Boat Dreams From The Hill
I’ve mentioned it before, but Jawbreaker is the only band I’ve followed out on the road. If memory serves, we saw 3 shows in a row while they were out supporting 24 Hour Revenge Therapy. They tore the roof off every night, but the best part was meeting them and seeing how down to Earth they all were. I’ve mentioned that too, but it bears repeating.
Like all good things, they burned fast, burned bright, and were done too soon.
Photo: Author’s collection
Fast forward 22 years, and they reformed to play a set at Riot Fest in Chicago this week in 2017. My wife spent the weekend there celebrating our wedding anniversary.
The entire festival lineup might as well have been a bucket list of shows for me. I finally got to see Bad Brains & TV On The Radio. And after far too long, I was able to see the Bosstones, New Order, and Nine Inch Nails again.
None of that holds a candle to the energy and anticipation ripping through the crowd that night as we waited for the band to retake the stage.
I’m not usually prone to hyperbole, but to say it was electric would be a gross understatement. Relief, ecstasy, joy — it was all there. I have no idea how many people were there (20,000??), but it felt like every one of us was going through some sort of catharsis.
And for a split second, the weight of adulthood vanished, and it was 1992 again; rambling up and down the freeway, smoking and listening to the band on a terrible stock 2-knob tape deck in a car that probably shouldn’t have been street legal.
J. Church-Nostalgic For Nothing
Another band that came and went too soon. J. Church was formed from the ashes of Cringer-another band over before their time. Looking back, there’s a bitter irony in lead singer Lance Hahn’s singing the chorus
What’s left behind…,
A room that is big and undefined,
A dying light,
I lie awake alone at night,
And I don’t care,
I know that life cannot be fair,
I know that life cannot be fair
Not fair indeed; he died at 40, after years of chronic health issues.
What are you listening to this week? An old favorite? Something new? Let me know in the comments!
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