Right Now

I’m not sure what is wrong with me.  It doesn’t matter how old I get and how many years pass since moving away from the small town where I grew up, every time I go through those seven “miracle” miles, I become the same angst-ridden teenager anxious to get out as fast as I can.  When I was in High School, I used to drive around that dreary town, blasting tunes as loud as I possibly could, so I could emotionally shout along to the lyrics as some sort of primal scream therapy.  I wanted so badly to get away.  I wanted so badly to start a new life full of cool adventures and worldly pursuits that the incredible music I loved so much was educating me about.  I felt trapped, like so many of us do at that age.

The problem is, I still feel trapped, and somehow it all becomes amplified when I drive through that terrible town.  I revert back to cranking the volume on the stereo to blistering levels.  There is no loud that is loud enough!  I think this is part of the reason why I like many of the bands I do.  When I was that restless teenager, I developed a fondness for screeching feedback, atonal tunings, and explosive instrumental drama combined with doom-laden and nihilistic lyrics.  These things were like a defensive shield to keep people away – a warm cocoon of noise to keep me safe.

Luckily, I don’t return very often, and when I do it’s mainly to pass through.  That’s when the windows go down, the volume goes up, and my imagination seethes with images of the streets ripping apart behind me from the sonic waves of epic noise emanating from my shitty car stereo system.  I can almost see the poor passersby bracing themselves to stay upright – showing concern as their teeth rattle to the brink of shattering.  Meanwhile, the automobiles around me are swerving uncontrollably from the rippling roadway and their windows crackling under the intense pressure.

The last time I drove through that dreadful coastal town, I had just started playing the Blankenberge album More.  The first few songs are absolutely breathtaking with their sheer insistency, drama, and yes, passages of explosive sound.  These are songs that for me bring a huge well of emotions surging to the surface simply from the music alone.  The reality is that instead of the handsome dude in the sweet ride cruising through town with a destructively powerful sound system playing music that is literally too cool and powerful for anyone to handle, I’m a fat older guy, on the verge of damaging the speakers of my 15 year old car, that cannot handle the volume of the distorted music playing that no one around will notice at all.

Like I said before, I’m not sure what is wrong with me.  Other than some family medical issues, which would’ve occurred no matter where we would’ve been located, my upbringing was pretty stable and generally happy.  I have a handful of really great friends from that town that I cherish, along with a lot of fun experiences to remember.  It’s the reminder that when passing through that town, I’m really no different than that teenager was.  Just a lot older, less healthy, and a lot more easily frustrated and confounded by everything.  It makes me want to break everything apart and start from scratch.