When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world. What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that. We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue.
However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus. I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them. This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know. One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life. It’s a problem really. There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time. I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines. I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.
I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com. I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.
Please ask any questions you may have.
A few months into the pandemic, like late spring, or early summer of 2020, I remember we were all dealing with the isolation of the lockdown. A lot of us who were fortunate enough, could work from home, most places were closed, and most people were wearing masks. There was also very little traffic, even at those busiest of times. Despite all of the terrible news of conflict everywhere, there were a few promising reports at the time that the lockdown might be working and that we may have seen the worst of it by that point, and that there were a few signs of how quickly the environment was recovering with so little traffic every day. I have a distinct memory of having to drive somewhere. It was a warm, sunny day and I had a brief flash of optimism. I can’t believe it now, but I actually thought to myself: “This might not last much longer.” Apparently, I was drunk, but the idea that we all collectively could actually make a difference and be willing to make sacrifices for the good of us all. We just needed to hang in there for a little while.
Pretty sure it was a Wednesday night in June of 2020, when I tuned into DJ Amber Crain’s fantastic internet radio show When the Sun Hits on Decayfm.com, when she played a brand new track, “Changing Colors,” by a band named Weathering. When DJ Amber played “Changing Colors,” its wall of guitar buzz smacked me across the face. It somehow became the best and biggest power chord I’d ever heard! I never get tired of its wallop. Even though it’s seemingly a heavy mass, it is still light and tuneful, instead of the heavy sludge and grinding of so many metal/industrial/noise bands that I once loved so much. Instead it’s the sound of inspiration and energy. I remember, years ago, trying to compare Bob Mould’s heavy solo album Black Sheets of Rain to Sugar’s Copper Blue. Where Black Sheets’ guitars felt like actual weight that we were fighting to climb out from under, Copper Blue’s sounds were like bolts of sparkling electricity filling us with gusto. Both styles can be great in their own way, but this…this somehow bridges both the heavy and the fire.
I’m spinning circles
Like wheels in my eyes
I’ve been changing colors
All my metal oxidizing
I went absolutely cold. Shivers cascaded down my spine. A giant lump welled up in my throat. Water pooled up in my eyes. Not only did these words hit me with a ton of bricks, as that super power chord transitioned into a luxurious, nearly orchestral space for the vocals, but it was that voice. There are times that certain voices affect me emotionally, and I do not know why. But this voice, provided by Elinor Carbone, reminded me of Emma Pollock’s voice the first time I ever heard The Delgados on their jaunty single “Everything Goes around the Water,” which quickly became one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite albums ever. They have voices that crackle with emotion and endless tunefulness. I can’t get them out of my head! Their phrasing keeps me humming their vocal refrains over and over, like a puzzle I can’t solve, but keep making the same efforts to try. Those words too. As I grow ever older, I constantly fight the notion that I’m spinning circles – getting stagnant, but I feel like it’s a constant battle. I desire stillness and quiet. I mostly want to be left alone. I want to wrap myself up into an isolated cocoon and shield myself from the madness and needs and expectations of others, but those tendencies are exactly what leads to the rust build up.
Watch me kick the dust up
Don’t like it settling settling down
These words hit hard and act as a reminder to shake off the oxidation and fight to stay relevant or at least feel like I’m trying. This is inspirational to me, yet it is an ever increasing challenge as I age and as my health quickly declines. Those leaves change colors no matter what. This past October was like summer, where it was well into the 80s and dry nearly the entire month, but dammit, those leaves still began to change from green to yellow and so on. Ready to fall.
I can act so restless
Take care, you carry me home
It’s so strange to be loved
When I insist on being left alone
In recent years, I have had to face the very real notion that I may not be able to take care of myself. Currently, I struggle to cook, clean, shower, and on certain days: everything. Yet my lifelong need to be independent and mostly alone has put me in a very real crossroads. How do I accept help? How do I handle the idea that there are people willing to help, and are simply waiting for the call. How do I handle such things without feeling useless and embarrassed? However, that heavy guitar instills me with life, especially when that killer guitar melody sits in atop the fuzz, it is a perfect example of why music is Goddamn important. Plus, the song ends abruptly with a sharp snare drum smack and hi hat tap, like a lot of Bad Religion songs, which always leaves me wanting more. Don't get me started about my general dislike of fade outs.
ðŸ˜
This
is not much of a story. The reality is
that I was sitting over my laptop with my headphones on, sitting in the dark,
yet I will not forget that moment. “Changing
Colors” is the whole package for me as far as a song is concerned. It’s exciting and fun to hear, to play air guitar to, to sing along with,
and it makes me feel things – a lot of things. When I hear it, I get inspired, I get sad, and I want to hear it again.
The song is powerful and defiant, and yet sad and reflective. During each airing of When the Sun Hits, there is always a coinciding live
chat about the songs on Facebook and initially, during that particular airing, all I could do was put
in a crying emoji. My heart was racing, as I was overcome with an intense
emotional and physical reaction to this song, and of course, my collector nerd
need to purchase it kicked in like a panic, which I did!
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