Growing up, I loved nothing more than shutting off all the lights in my room, with the exception of the two light boxes my dad made in high school shop class, and rearrange the six speakers I had hooked up to my frankenstein stereo system and just lay in bed listening to music. (I guess there was also “light” from the glow-in-the-dark star stickers and bead curtains I had hanging up, but that’s beside the point.)
I’ve always loved manipulating sound while surrounding myself with it. I would experiment with different placement of the speakers and different wiring to get just the right sound, which would vary from album to album, artist to artist. Some days I craved the crackly sounds of my vinyl, others the wavering metallic sound of eight tracks. Then there were the nights I would fall asleep with my headphones on, listening to Pink Floyd or The Beatles or Liz Phair or Massive Attack . . . Again, it varied.
When in relationships, the moments I loved the most were those spent in bed, not touching, just listening to music. The other day, I was google searching my old email name and came across this, which I have no recollection of writing:
Date: Sun, 10 Jan 1999 08:34:39 PST
From: “*Adrienne* Gross” <email@example.com>
Subject: weirdness…kind of
Last night, I was at my boyfriend’s house and I decided to put on Exile
In Guyville. Well, after a while we were just laying there in bed and
“Shatter” came on. Now, for some reason this song has always evoked
something in me; like a foreshadowing that this song would end up
holding some *real* sentimental value for me. We were just laying
there, listening to that song and it just kind of summed everything up
in one neat little package. It was one of the neatest experiences of my
That leads me to a question for everybody: Have you ever had an
experience where a Liz song came on and just kind of summed everything
Oh and another thing…when “shatter” ended and “flower” came on, I just
had to laugh. It made me think a little about the lay out of the album
and real life. Just think about it. :)
That moment sounds ideal: just laying there, being washed over by the perfect song in the perfect environment. Pure darkness, except the blue light coming from his stereo. (For this reason, I always loved the song “Blue Light” by Mazzy Star). You don’t need to touch; you don’t even need to talk. Just let the music and the stillness do all the work.
I still love to do this, but I don’t have the time to do it as much. There’s always something to do–you don’t get the time to just relax like that anymore.
If I could dedicate a whole day to doing that again, this would be my initial song choice:
I could listen to it over and over and over . . .