March 12th, 2012
Right now I’m listening to music while working and Frankie Rose’s “Moon In My Mind” just came on. It’s a track I haven’t heard before– the album is fairly recent– but it instantly gets earmarked because, well, it’s damn good. Equal parts atmosphere and driving pulse, it came out of nowhere.
It strikes me as an extended metaphor for other things rattling around in my world. I’m someone who loves to find new music; I will go to lengths to hunt it down, to find a gem of some unheard song that will one day become, in a way, a part of who I am. And sometimes, there are an embarrassing number of new things that are all fantastic and they all come out at once and you’ve got tunes to spin for days on end. You’re like an archaeologist of the future, endlessly digging up things that will one day be treasures.
And sometimes… there’s nothing. Not on the radio. No discoveries online or in the record bins. No new recommendations from friends. Months pass, nothing. And you just can’t force these things, no matter how hard you work at it.
But then one day you’ll get hit by that bolt of proverbial lightning. You weren’t looking for it, you weren’t even hoping for it anymore, but the result is all the same: you get tingly all over, your hair stands on end, and all the world seems like it just might work out alright.