An Aging Musician Broods
Flipping through used CDs at EarWax, I remember the moment I realized I didn’t recognize the majority of bands in the rack. I was shocked and felt old and out of place. I felt like I should be led out to pasture and shot. I felt out of it. I knew my life had changed forever.
It just goes to show how life changes. Prior to 7th grade I was pretty much oblivious to pop music. My musical arena consisted of the dixieland that my dad listened to and band practice at school. In fact one of the more embarrassing moments of my life occurred in 5th grade, when our class was asked to vote on our favorite pop song. Since I never listened to the radio, I was clueless regarding the popular songs of the day but too shy to admit it. MC, a classmate sitting in front of me, turned and said "I really like I Need Somebody, don’t you?" "Yeah," I replied, hoping he didn’t realize that I’d never even heard of the song. Confounded at what to put on my ballot, I vaguely recalled a Beatles song called Help, I need somebody and scrawled that down. I felt I’d safely skirted this treacherous social shore until somebody asked what song I’d voted for. "It’s a secret," I said, ignorant of the reaction this would bring. "C’mon, tell us, tell us," he said, a crowd gathering to find out my secret. "No, I won’t tell," I said, but being a nerd meant that a stronger kid soon had wrestled the ballot from my trembling hands. He announced my vote to the class’s general puzzlement, while my ears turned bright red knowing that MC was disgusted with me (MC was cool and I wanted him to like me).
I started listening to the radio in junior high; 7th or 8th grade. The Beatles’ Nowhere Man caused me great discomfort; I was sure it was written to humiliate me. A song I liked was Call me lightning, about a dancing fool. I didn’t dance, I just liked the way it sounded. The 5th Dimension’s Aquarius was my favorite. I used to phone my best friend PR whenever it came on the radio; we’d both listen with the phone in our hands and then gush about how cool it was.
The first rock album I ever bought was In a gadda da vida by Iron Butterfly. I was probably in 9th or 10th grade. This was before I started taking drugs, mind you. Years later when I was in college, a friend told me he thought the title was derived from "In the garden of Eden." Yeah, could be. I’d never thought about it, I just liked the way it sounded.
So 11th grade was when my addiction to rock and roll records and smoking pot began. Led Zeppelin, James Gang, Jimi Hendrix, It’s a Beautiful Day, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Alice Cooper -- stuff like that. I discovered the Grateful Dead in 12th grade and declared them my favorite band. I branched out quickly, finding an ear for Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd, the Allman Brothers, Jefferson Airplane, the Byrds, Fleetwood Mac, and countless others. In a few years I discovered jazz fusion, which became my passion. John McLaughlin, Weather Report, Miles Davis (ok, he did more than fusion). But I drew the line at Chic Corea – I had taste. My record collection grew by leaps and bounds.
I was proud to discover obscure bands with tremendous talent (Hummingbird, Kevin Ayers, Swimming Pool Qs). And there were bands I detested; Jim Croce, James Taylor, and almost all disco except for Parliament/Funkadelic. In fact I was also becoming a musician, jamming with others after school. The point is, I was totally immersed in pop music, developing a broad knowledge of the scenes, styles, musicians and recordings.
The first band that asked me to join them as a full-fledged member was the Speed Queens, an early Tallahassee punk band. We had a singer who couldn’t sing but wailed hip anguished lyrics, a journalist who played bass, a hot undisciplined guitar player who was still in high school and usually missed practice, a drummer with one snare and one cymbal, and myself. Mostly we sucked, but we did have high energy and some fun parties.
Over the years I played in a multitude of bands, including the Shakes, POP, Sass, the Die Hards and Adivan. Playing for an appreciative, dancing audience was a kick.
But, duh, look around and ten years have passed. Look around, and there goes another ten. My time is spent with other activities, and all of a sudden the music scene has become totally bewildering. Well, not totally, but I am a stranger in once-familiar territory. This hurts more than dog bites or bee stings.
Frank Brown, 5/4/97