In my errant ‘youth’, I would have described myself as massive music fan. I had a huge cd collection (yes, back when cd’s were the thing that you counted a collection in), I went to music festivals, and club nights and gigs. I fervently believed that I if I had children they would be coming to the Reading Festival with me, so great was my conviction that there would never be a time that I wouldn’t want to go.
Music made my heart soar just because of a bass line (The Strokes, This is it), it made me squeal with delight and run onto the dance floor, clutching a sweaty pint of beer in a plastic cup (Foo Fighters- Monkey Wrench, Rolling Stones- Paint it Black… Oh so many songs!). It made me happy when something I loved came on the radio, and I loved nothing more than getting in the car and singing extremely loudly. Music was and is the basis for most of my memories- there’s a genuine soundtrack running through my life.
Slowly, slowly I started to lose the bug. Me and Mark still took ourselves off to festivals and went to the occasional gig, but it was always to see bands that we’d seen before. Slowly, slowly, I stopped caring, stopped listening out for new bands, stopped buying music (Ive still never bought an mp3 and lets face it, nobody buys cds any more!). I don’t live in a silent world or anything, i still listen to music in the car, or when I’m out running, but it’s more like background now. I kind of miss it though- the thrill of finding something new.
Yesterday I was out for my friend Han’s birthday. I knew everyone was intending on going to a club night after the pub that I didn’t even enjoy in my clubbing days and was fully intending on going home at midnight, but for some reason, my curiosity got the better of me and I discovered I quite fancied going… So I did. And it was weird. So little had changed- the DJ was the same person, the music, give or take a few blocks of songs that I didnt know, were the same, obviously, at the grand old age of 31, I was one of the oldest people in there, but I had just sort of lost the joy… I never used to like that night in particular because I didn’t really like the song choices, but yesterday the DJ played loads of songs that used to make me jump and sing, but even the songs that used to be my ultimate ‘Im tired and I need a wee and my drink’s empty but I need to dance to this song’ songs, just weren’t giving me the same feeling that they used to.
I gave it a chance, stayed til half 2 and then took myself off home and pondered over a cup of (decaf, rock and roll) tea that I don’t think I’ll ever completely lose the love- the same old songs will still make me feel happy, but I think I’m ready to embrace the fact that I don’t need to be that person chasing the new trends, and I certainly don’t need to be the oldest person in the club