Blog From A Hermit Dot Com

Donna Woodka recently posted this video and the associated lyrics (following) on her Changing Places blog with one of her wonderful theme posts entitled Searching.

As my life goes on I believe
Somehow something’s changed
Something deep inside
Ooh a part of me

There’s a strange new light in my eyes
Things I’ve never known
Changin’ my life
Changin’ me

I’ve been searchin’
So long
To find an answer
Now I know my life has meaning

Now I see myself as I am
Feeling very free
Life is everything
Ooh it’s meant to be
When my tears have come to an end
I will understand
What I left behind
Part of me…

As usual, Donna’s post was good thought-food, though for some reason I wound up thinking more about the music than about searching.  (Well, I did spend some time reflecting on what I might have been searching for in 1974 [the year Chicago released Searching So Long] and whether I found it or ultimately abandoned the quest.)  But the music from her post lingered. Part of the fun of looking back at the music is noticing how perspective gives the lyrics refreshing new meaning.

I wound up wondering at what point the music of our childhood (often our parents’ music) transitions to our own music and not theirs. For some of us, it’s that intentionally cultivated point where our preferred music alienates our parents, but that’s not always true. The methods for teenagers to alienate their parents are many and sundry – and always have been. Music may or may not be involved.

But if you’re a music person (even just an appreciator, like me), important memories always wind up tied to whatever music surrounds you at the time of any life passage, phase or event. Ever after, that music stimulates the memories of the associated events and vice versa. I suppose that’s not so great for those who hang on to the lousy memories – and there is some music which stimulates sad memories for me. But I don’t dwell on the sadness when I hear the music. I just reflect on the lessons learned or losses endured and charge onward to a different soundtrack (or playlist) to snap myself out of the maudlin if I get stuck there.

Of course, like other memories of youth, the music of youth often seems more vivid and lasting than some of the later additions. Psychologically, this has more to do with the youthful memories (and music) falling on a fresh canvas than it does (as some youngsters think) with the terminally declining mental acuity of us oldsters. Yes, there is such a thing as age-related memory loss – but not everyone over 40 is trapped in a downward spiral into dementia. In youth, many things, including music, are hooked into memory as extremely relevant because of their newness. Ultimately, experience diminishes the novelty factor and memories in later life are stored in a very crowded filing system. As we mature, we also get significantly more efficient at forgetting (intentionally or subconsciously) the irrelevant. And our definition of relevant changes dramatically – or should.

But I think it’s important not to get stuck only with the music of our younger years. I continue to allow new music to seep into my life. Since I don’t really have any other handy sources and I don’t spend very much online time listening to music, I frequently listen to fm radio while driving as a method of familiarizing myself with new music and younger artists. This gets me 5+ hours per week of serendipitous music discovery. Though listening to radio may itself be an archaic and outdated (hopefully, not dying) method, when I find something I like, I do have an iPod for downloading it.

Of course, whether a song is on the top 40 (if that still exists per se), which artists are dating each other, and what any of them are wearing is totally irrelevant to me.  But I never was into that aspect of the music scene. And I admit, I’ve never developed a true appreciation of rap. But as a writer, I’ve long appreciated lyrics, and rap has significantly improved the lyrics of all genres. There’s as much talent out there as ever.

The old music is important and meaningful, but I think it’s also important not to get stuck with only your old tunes. Like other retreats we inadvertently wander into as we age – closing the door on the new limits our perspective, our opportunities, and our readiness to keep up the search – and therein may be the passage from mature to just plain old.