What Did You Put In Your Head?
Summertime is music time–always and forever–in my mind, and that has a lot to do with growing up in the Pacific Northwest during the Grunge and Gorge Amphitheater era, attending more music festivals and all night shows than I can count. Although it’s been a fair number of years since I’ve been in a mosh pit (I was once moshed so close to Flea, of Red Hot Chili Peppers, that I could see he was wearing Calvin Klein underwear…don’t ask)…I am happy to report that going to a concert, alone, remains one of my all time favorite activities.
With a toddler in tow, however, this summer’s listening has consisted more of podcasts and new albums purchased on iTunes (which I don’t actually prefer, in terms of a listening experience). At least Brad and I played The Ramones and Bob Dylan on the record player a few times, now that we’ve got a functioning tuner. But most of the time, it’s me, headphones, house chores or an elliptical trainer, and this…
- Sooo Many White Guys (when I need to get real about my own white privilege, but also get real about male patriarchy)
- Help Yourself: Digital Small Business & the New Economy (when I’m doing the business of doing business)
- For the Wild (when I need to feel the earth, remember my purpose, and get motivated)
- What Would a Feminist Do (when I want to remember how wonderful it felt before Hillary’s downfall)
MUSIC I CAN’T STOP PLAYING:
- Nadia Reid (both albums) – soulful, haunting, clever, mellow, gorgeous, calming, deeply felt
- The National (especially High Violet and Sleep Well Beast, but honestly, EVERYTHING…)
- Arcade Fire (always and forever The Suburbs, but also Everything Now)
- Pearl Jam (when have I ever NOT listened to Pearl Jam?)
Lest anyone feels dismayed at my tame experiences with music now that I’m married and mothering, I’m also happy to report that I did go see The National, live, by myself, in May (peak experience!). And as evidence of my past life (still residing within my cells), here’s where I was one of those long-go summers of yore, moshing and mixing it up, sweating with the best of ’em…Oh, and does any of this help me write? YOU BET IT DOES.