Sunday night
Sep. 30th, 2012 08:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cosmolinguistThe evolutionary impulse to end the day when it gets dark outside seems strong with nme. Not until the last half-hour or so have I started to tackle the chores I intended to do today, and I always feel somehow less satisfied with days like this, as if what's done while the Sun is on the other side of the world does not count. Maybe it's just the psychic weight of all those lethargic hours I've stocked up, not helped by the tyrannical hold Sunday trading hours have on my plans, requiring more discipline than I could provide today, ensuring chores like grocery shopping roll over to tomorrow and I have all night to miss the bread and cheese I didn't get today.
Strange how so much of the music Andrew likes -- his new hobby is making digital mixtapes/radio shows/DJ sets -- I dislike. Considering that music was one of the things that we had in common and first talked about and felt close thanks to all those conversations. But maybe that's why. I remember him sending me a CD of mp3s he liked (with "The Food of Love" scrawled on it) and I listened to them a lot. I listened to Frank Zappa while I wasn't going to class and I listened to sunshine pop while I was trying not to think about how I'd fail out of college; no wonder I don't like them now.
Andrew doesn't seem to have as many emotional connotations with the music he does or doesn't like; I tell him "this is a bad song but it reminds me of someone I loved and never see any more" or "yes this is disposable pop music but it was popular for three happy months of my life" or "I can see why you like the clever lyrics and sublime harmonies but it reminds me of sad things" yet I never seem to convey the time-capsule or instant-recall nature of music that, for better or worse, is part of the reason it means so much to many humans. He just likes what he likes. Sometimes I envy that but mostly I'm glad music allows me to store parts of myself and what's important to me outside of my feeble brain.
Strange how so much of the music Andrew likes -- his new hobby is making digital mixtapes/radio shows/DJ sets -- I dislike. Considering that music was one of the things that we had in common and first talked about and felt close thanks to all those conversations. But maybe that's why. I remember him sending me a CD of mp3s he liked (with "The Food of Love" scrawled on it) and I listened to them a lot. I listened to Frank Zappa while I wasn't going to class and I listened to sunshine pop while I was trying not to think about how I'd fail out of college; no wonder I don't like them now.
Andrew doesn't seem to have as many emotional connotations with the music he does or doesn't like; I tell him "this is a bad song but it reminds me of someone I loved and never see any more" or "yes this is disposable pop music but it was popular for three happy months of my life" or "I can see why you like the clever lyrics and sublime harmonies but it reminds me of sad things" yet I never seem to convey the time-capsule or instant-recall nature of music that, for better or worse, is part of the reason it means so much to many humans. He just likes what he likes. Sometimes I envy that but mostly I'm glad music allows me to store parts of myself and what's important to me outside of my feeble brain.
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Date: 2012-10-01 03:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-10-01 07:32 am (UTC)Music is extraordinarily important to him, but it doesn't seem to imply mood or memory; he's just happy when stuff he likes is being heard.