Eclectic Music Taste and My Evolution

The rain isn't doing much for the mood, but it might be what we need to encourage people to stay home. Besides, that is what Saturdays and Sundays are for; staying home and doing relaxing things like watching tv and having friends around.  The shopping was done over a week ago, but dinner is for residents only. 

I don't see them every day but I miss seeing my friends at all. I think it is because my freedom to do so is gone. Maybe a Skype dinner party is worth thinking about.

When the tv is not on, for news in the morning and general viewing at night,  I generally have one device or another playing music. Sometime on headphones just for me, sometimes on speakers for me and the neighbors.

So, in keeping with my Saturday vibe here are some tunes. I have deplorable taste in movies and I accept, even cherish this, but I think I have an eclectic taste in music which is a nod to open mindedness and the ability to evolve and be inclusive.

When this song made it's first appearance I was probably a year or so out of school and working in Johannesburg and living with some friends in Hillbrow while we completed a project.  South Africa was on the cusp of democracy, apartheid was dead, there was a sense of newness and wellbeing for the country and for me. I think I was under the impression that my life had finally started.

It hadn't, but I was having fun and experiencing freedom without having to answer to anyone.  For the first time my no meant no and my yes meant wholeheartedly.  Hillbrow in those days was also reaching the end of it's heyday.  The liberal, cosmopolitan 1970's were a thing of the past.  I expect that the area garnered it's bad reputation because it was one of the few places where, even in those times, few questioned your race orientation or reason.  It was where liberal meant freedom, not irresponsibility.  Robin S was a huge hit in the clubs we visited after work.  All decked out in green parachute fabric tracksuits, courtesy of our employer.

That no-one questioned what I was doing quickly had me pressing the issue of my identity. Suffice it to say that the messier my hair, the better, shirts I hand-stitched from household items, dish towels, short-pants and knee high Doc Martens before anyone else in town was doing it. Embellished, and I use this term loosely, t-shirts and vintage paraphernalia from shops in alleyways were the order of the day.

I don't like to think of it as a phase. In fact I don't like to think of any part of my journey as a phase.  All it serves is to discredit what ultimately lead you to where you are today. My bohemian period lasted a bit longer than many. I managed to become part of the regular world again and do what was expected, although my heart is still very bohemian. In all the good ways;  I don't eat meat and I bath regularly.

Before I latched on to the Byrds, and Marianne Faithfull, Janis and co, I had an Edie Brickell moment.  I didn't like Edie and co at first, there was something I couldn't relate to. It may have been a maturity I didn't possess.  It made the music difficult to relate to.

I think starting out, fresh from school my world was rather small.  I hadn't been anywhere, a few seaside holidays before the age of six don't count. I certainly wasn't well read and only had the vocabulary, the education and the outlook provided by the government of the day.  I would often find myself in conversations, not saying anything, just marveling at how mature my peers seemed and furiously taking mental notes to go and find out what some of the words they were using meant.  I wasn't really a quiet person I was just very busy playing catch-up.

It is one of the great pleasures in life to be able to expand one's vocabulary and also be afforded opportunity to make use of words you had looked up ages ago and just never found an opening for.  Kind of like a one-liner just begging to be thrown, timing be damned.

Sinead O'Connor over the last 20 to 30 years has been a study in self-discovery and metamorphosis.  She has lived her journey, difficult as it sometimes was to hilt.  From wild Irish angel with a very angry outlook, through rastafarianism, self implosion, isolation, and now finally she seems happy and at peace. The devout and the hardliners mat not approve; her peace has been found in Islam.

Many artists, regardless of chosen medium, are affected by their experiences.  In the next months and years as the world starts to recover from the predicament we find ourselves in there will be a preponderance of work depicting the situation and surviving it, the situation and not surviving it, our uncertain future. I hope with all my heart that we will be around to see it. 

And just as art will evolve, so undoubtedly will we.  Hopefully to being more open, understanding and loving. Open to that and those to whom we never spared a thought.  Understanding of each other and more importantly of ourselves. And loving, because without love there is no point.