Sometimes these posts are just as much about taking something back from the ether as they are about spreading love.
Allow me to clarify.
So many of these posts are about things that have been swept under the rug by our collective hyperactivity and perpetual distraction. The world is so full of amazing things that it's easy to forget that we should appreciate what's there rather than denouncing emergent media or hailing the next big thing as 'BEST EVAR'. I get it. Hyperbole is what runs the internet. If it's not an opinion that polarizes, it's lost in the din. Life doesn't work that way, however. Sometimes we're lukewarm to things, or just not moved to passionate reaction. A nuanced life in this world we've created is a rare thing. I like to think, though, that minds change. People grow and reflect. I can embrace that which used to put me off.
For example - when I was younger I hated fall with a passion that matched any miscreant on Xbox Live. I hated the days growing shorter, the cold, the inevitable winter that followed. I also hated the things I associated with it, retroactively. Albums I had listened to the previous fall were tainted. Things I had said or done were looked upon with regret or disdain, simply because of the intangible feeling associated with this time of year. At some point the tide in my head shifted. Maybe it was getting older and mellowing out just a bit. Maybe I started to understand to a greater extent my insignificant place in the universe. Maybe it was realizing someone loved me and wanted to spend the rest of their life with me as much as I did with them. That takes away a lot of your distemper, I've found. So when fall approaches now, I find myself picking through the mental detritus of my life, overturning stone and marveling at the things underneath, like ephemeral silverfish. I enjoy poking through my own neglected memories, things I hadn't thought about in years.
There was an album by Bush that I so strongly associated with this time of year (and admittedly, my own poor mental state at the time) that I simply refused to listen to it. There was something about it that was like biting on tinfoil when I heard the opening track. So strongly did I associate The Science of Things with these darkening days that I convinced myself that it was the music that was bad and not my listening experience or frame of reference. Through self indulgent curiosity I've found I had fooled myself. While it's not the greatest record EVAR (per common online parlance) there are some interesting and worthwhile moments to come back to.
In particular, the opening track (and second single) 'Warm Machine' is beautiful in its crashing waves of sound. The discordant riff that dominates the song pulls so strongly at my heart and causes such a physical reaction in my chest that I can see now why I put it away for so long. There is such a melancholic, saudade-summoning essence to the ambiance that I must not have been able to handle the tones as a younger person. My own depression and unhappiness at the time tied in too closely with the feelings stirred up by the change in season and hearing this song as the sun set on an overcast, Midwestern skyline. Hearing it now makes me remember with vivid clarity just where I was and who I was with every time I heard it. The intensity of my rejection of the song is somehow proportional to my emergent appreciation for it a decade later.
Funny how that works. Sometimes you're not in the right place or time or frame of mind to get something. A lot of art blew right past me as a young man, much as some things do now. I'm sure when another decade has passed I'll kick myself for not enjoying something simple and obvious like tomato soup. But you know what? My better half has already started me down the soup loving path. That's how life works. You learn to love the world, one piece at a time.
