June 21, 2010

Then, about two seconds later, the Walkman appeared. One could now listen to music as a private activity in a public space. One could listen to the Cars’ “Moving In Stereo” while actually moving in stereo through the main quad of your high school, in such a manner that regular people and objects assumed a sudden aqueous and symphonic significance, a discernible rhythm, and hitherto undetected emotional valences. Everyone became deeper and more beautiful.

We weren’t just the stars of our videos. We were the directors, too. If we wanted the world to shimmer with exuberance, we played Katrina and the Waves (“Walking on Sunshine”). If we wanted to wallow in romantic suffering – and what adolescent doesn’t? – we chose “Tempted” by Squeeze. If we wanted a dark jolt of aggression there was always Sabbath. Music, which had been a kind of world to which we applied, because something we applied to the world.

— Currently reading: Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life: A Book by and for the Fanatics Among Us by Steve Almond.