Thursday, January 7, 2010

Your Cuddle Bunny's Waiting for his Jam.

Record Cozy. It has been a while. (Please feel free to read that in an Eric Northman circa "Plaisir d'Amour," True Blood Season 1. I know I did.)

Because I could look at him all day. Let's do that now.

So. Here we are again. I'd like to say it's something flashy, something exciting or humorous, but really it's completely normal. Or at least I hope it is for you.

I'm not talking about something in the TMI zone, no, I'm talking about music. I don't just mean music as back ground noise or something you can move to. But music as your life's blood. As part of your life, your memories, your happiness. Hardcore. I said that, but I'm not a hipster, I swear.

It's why music people look down on non-music people. Or at least choose not to associate with them. Can you imagine going a day without listening to music at least once? Even elevator music or the bass of a car stereo as some teenager blasts their rebellious noise? I can't.

When you hear a good song, there's something about it that just makes sense. You close your eyes, you dissect the layers or you listen for that one note. You know that song forever. When you hear that one unforgettable line, it's the most lovely feeling in the world. It's just right. Warm fuzzies.

Then the songs are everywhere. You hear a certain phrase and it's never the same again. As Spike once asked Buffy on an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Who you gonna call?" and after a deliberate pause he said, "That phrase is never going to be usable again, is it?" And it won't.

Music's way sneaky. I know that I can't stop giggling when I try to enjoy a hot beverage, because as soon as I think, "Tea or coffee?", I'm compelled to finish with, "Chocolate Cake or Biscuit?" from a Patrik Fitzgerald song I was listening to (obsessively) a few weeks ago.

You'll hear that song again, and you'll remember the first time you heard it, what the weather was like that day, what you did, how you felt. And that's a mixed bag. Rule #1: Never listen to an excellent song if you believe your boyfriend will break up with you.

That's not really a rule. You can listen to country music. "The music of pain," according to Xander Harris. (I'm feeling the Buffy references tonight for some reason.) Xander Harris: Music person. You don't spend your youth at a music club if you don't get it. The Bronze had some nice 90's stuff. Alt-rock at its best. That poppy goodness means fun times with your buds. Country means pain.

If you've ever had a song stuck in your head, there's probably a reason for your music needs. Today, that song is "The Killing Moon" by Echo & The Bunnymen. For me, that is. Why? It's a bit snowy, but there's slush on the ground. It's the first week of classes. It's drab. The streets feel still when it's cold. Those faint notes just sound so desolate, yet the lyrics are strangely romantic.

There's something about the lyrics that can't quite fit anywhere comfortably. There's an edge. "Fate /Up against your will/Through the thick and thin" with its almost cathartic melody alongside it, just melts the drab day away. It's like seeing snowflakes fall in front of a streetlamp. Pretty, but it's going in your rain boots. Your socks are wet, but you're too happy to care. It's a night where your breath curls from your lips ("a magic world"), and you feel like you're just about in Narnia. Not exactly what it means. But that's OK.

When the music moves you, it does more than move you, physically. You're a poet, you're an artist. And your a character in your own movie. You can be giddy or angry at the world, or a hopeless romantic. You just need the right song. And the will to move that sentimental cuddle bunny in your heart. He's waiting to hear his jam. Don't make him cry.

If he's not burning up your tummy waving a bunny-sized lighter of joy and warmth that makes you smile, you're not doing it right. Embrace the bunny. He is your friend. And music, she's like a superspy, but she's got your back. Check back for concept art: Cuddle Bunny and Music Spy. (Not really, but just picture it. And get listening.)

Kele of Bloc Party just became your Cuddle Bunny.

Or if you prefer the literal images...

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