Just a little ramble.

Thinking about my post from the other day, summer/warm weather is the perfect time to fall in love with music. With windows down, going from one adventure to another with a new soundtrack playing through the speakers...there's not much better.

In the summer after my senior year of high school we would spend hours at this cool music store and I'd get to pick out a couple records that caught my eye (or ear, I guess). I was obsessed with Bjork back then. When I got this album, (I think it was Post, because I like its version of "Hyperballad" better than the one on Telegram...I am such a nerd) I remember feeling this overwhelming exuberance. That's really the only word I can think of. I felt like there was a bird in my lungs or fire in my veins. I wanted to hug someone or squeal or something or anything or everything.

There's that powerful link between the senses and memory. Like smells...the smell of a boy's breath who chews the same gum as the boy you loved at 17 or smelling the perfume you wore in middle school and feeling like an adolescent again, just for a moment. For me, music is like that, but even more powerful. As with "Hyperballad," if a song was particularly striking to me, I can hear it and remember the exact situation where I heard it for the first time. Not only that, but music can invoke feelings that you haven't ever felt before. I think I knew what falling in love was because I felt it from a song before I ever felt it from a boy.

Music can bring you from one mood to another, from the past to the future, and drop you into all the murky gray places in between.

When I was little, I thought musicians and magicians were the same thing. After all, there's not much different. They entertain, they awe. I still haven't lost that sense of wonder for people who take notes and keys and chords and chuck them together with a few words and then sing them through a mic in a way that makes my stomach drop. It's magic.

It's a strange thing, music.