However cheesy it may be, I have always felt like my life runs on a kind of soundtrack. Whether it is the music that I am listening to that fills in my memories and shapes my life around it, or my current mood and circumstances that provide the songs and lyrics that help me deal with the day, music seems to add color and substance to my experiences and helps me express things that someone as uncreative as I would otherwise have no hope of expressing.
My dad doesn't seem to experience music in this way, so maybe I'm crazy. He loves all kinds of music and, for as far back as I can remember, has been up for listening to whatever he draws out of the cup to listen to that week. Literally. He has this awesome systematic way of going through all of his albums (he is working on filling his THIRD 80GB IPOD right now) so that they each get their fair share of play-time. It's awesome (and juuust a little bit mad-scientist-y).
I just can't do that. I don't love all albums equally at all times. I rifle through my IPOD every time I turn it on for the perfect tunes to fit my mood or the setting or even the weather. And whether or not I'm using my music collection correctly, lately my playlist has been a cathartic mix of downers and uppers so confusing and emotional it almost makes me feel normal! ...That sort of didn't sound like a good thing. But, I swear, it is. One day it's bright and hopeful: "Here comes the Sun (doo-in doo doo) Here comes the Sun and I say, 'It's alright'" The next it's dark and dooms-day-ish; "Change everything you are and everything you were. Your number has been called."
How's your Fall 2010 Playlist shaping up?