I am the epitome of representation when it comes to generation x. Now before we get started here I’m not labeling my generation by beating my chest whilst screaming “we are the best!” Everyone has their opinions on the greatest of all time. I imagine the traditionalists did some amazing things, boomers have an unfortunate labeling, I grew up with a lot of millennials and I can’t relate to the Zs because I’m old as shit.

I was born in late summer 1971. I am almost 53 years of age and I will only say this about my generation.

Fucking

Music

Rocked

Music has been my therapy since the moment I learned how to put a needle on a record. There were zero musicians in my family, no musical backgrounds or ridiculously talented siblings or parents. No instruments lying about for me to pick, blow or drum. I can’t recall the first song my ears collaborated with but I imagine it put a damn smile on my face because music always has done that for me. I was singing and dancing along to a song in my truck the other day and it got me thinking about all the lyrics I’ve memorized over the years. The thousands of hours of melodies I’ve absorbed. Can you imagine a life without music? I’d rather not be around most things if it weren’t for music.

I can’t play a lick. I can sing above average but it used to take a bottle to get me to sing. My voice got ravaged from years of drinking, smoking and acid reflux. 20 years of being the inside/outside expo in a loud kitchen will give you the throat of a used up 80s big hair band singer. Yeah I’m looking at you Vince Neil. My voice and throat have been healing from my reckoning. I could out croon a few of you again. When I travel I get so euphoric that I will sing in my car by myself until I’m hoarse. Coffee has a little to do with that.

I’ve enjoyed my life as a Gen Xer and music was and is one of the biggest reasons. I’ve been writing about work and mental health so much recently I thought I’d step out and reminisce and share what it’s like to grow up as an old fart X er. We got to experience all the media from vinyl, 8 tracks, cassettes, CDs, sharing pirated files to iPods and their little shuffle friends.

I wanted to share my love and experience with my tunes on a little timeline that I’m sure all my fellow Gen X ers can read and relate to. I’ve had almost 53 years of beautiful melodies making my life smile.

Can you think of your first favorite song? The one you find your head bopping to? Or drumming your fingers on a table or maybe you’re just humming along to chorus?

My summers as a child were spent pool side at a country club pool or at the community pool at Club Key East. I have fond memories of baby club sandwiches in styrofoam boxes with potato chips littered on the hot pool sidewalk that I would splash water over the sides of the pool so my feet wouldn’t burn on the hot days. I lay a cold soda can on my neck to cool off. It could’ve been a coke, Pepsi, RC it didn’t matter as long as it had sugar. When you’re 5 years old you think these cans save you from the heat and dehydration. Man I used to love an ice cold Pepsi in the summertime. I drink them so fast you could hear the burp from my little lungs across the pool. Sometimes I think that’s how my family kept tabs on me. The energy you have as a small child jacked the fuck up on sugar is amazing. I’d walk as fast I could (don’t run the lifeguard would kick you out) to the diving board and jump as high and far as I could into the sorta scary deep end of the pool and doggy paddle as fast as I could to the ladder on the side, pull my ass out of the pool and then drip all the way back to the diving board and repeat.

For hours

I used to watch my daughter do the same exact thing with the biggest smile you could imagine. Parenthood is amazing y’all.

The clubhouse had outdoor speakers and whenever I hear Sir Duke by Stevie Wonder my mind flies me to that pool near Belle Meade. That’s another amazing ability music has for me. It allows me to time travel. I can go back to numerous eras in my life just from one song. Sometimes I can smell my old surroundings when I hear the right song. Fresh cut grass when I’d sit on my parents little riding mower with my Walkman headphones on listening to Wham or the stench of stale beer coolers when I hear shag music back in the days when I barbacked at the Sand Flea. I was around 5 years of age when the music became more than a chime over my bed. I’m sure I sang some god awful cartoons or crooned along side some muppet on Captain Kangaroo but the real stuff started sticking to my ears that summer.

I liked fun music. The song had to have some relevance I could gravitate towards as a child. You aren’t trying to find deep meaning in lyrics when you’re 5 years old. Keywords or the chorus would get me singing even if I didn’t understand the meaning of the song. I mimicked because I like the beat. I loved Stevie Wonder because I thought it was magic that a blind man could play an instrument and sing like that man could. I loved the movie Car Wash so that theme song would make me smile and I’d ask my dad to turn it up on his Buick stereo. Or maybe it was the Lincoln continental? Jamming in your car was a little different then. You’d have your 5 static filled radio stations preset on the little plastic rectangular buttons on your car stereo. If it was a newer model you might have an 8 track on the dash. You could crank that dial all the way up but you weren’t hearing shit if you were sitting on the backseat fold down hump. Summers in the south are hot. Car AC wasn’t really a thing yet or at least we didn’t have it so I’d try to enjoy some tunes while experiencing the vortex of four giant Lincoln Continental windows rolled down, all the air and my dad’s Winston Reds billowing in my eyes, ears and nose. The 70s were wild man. If my parents slammed on the brakes while I sat perched on that uncomfortable vinyl hump I’d still be in orbit. My old man was considerably older than me. I can’t tell you what his musical tastes were but I don’t think local radio was playing much Lena Horne or Glenn Miller so I’m sure he played whatever my ears wanted to hear.

I’d sing and giggle along to Play that Funky Music White Boy by Wild Cherry and You Sexy Thing by Hot Chocolate. Lyrics didn’t have meaning at the time unless they rhymed. Rhyming was fun I was 5 for fucks sake. 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover by Paul Simon, my family would all sing “get off the bus Gus!” as we’d go on long drives heading nowhere. I loved those drives. Singing Barry Manilow “I Write The Songs” is a fun song to croon to as a child. Copacabana too.

I saw Grease at the local drive in off of Augusta Road and thought John Travolta was the coolest mother fucker on earth. I also thought his girlfriend Olivia was a princess. If you could have a crush on someone at 6 years of age you could do a lot worse than the iconic Olivia Newton John. When she pops out at the end of Grease with her hair spray on wild and leather I bet I did the cartoonish googly eyes popping out of my head. “What a beautiful princess” I bet I was thinking. I didn’t pay much attention to the movie. I’d follow my siblings around while they smoked behind my parents back and drink out of their friends trunks parked at the drive in. When Travolta and John would sing I’d stop, watch and listen. I’d get mesmerized watching Travolta singing Greased Lighting while dancing on top of the cars. Singing “you are supreme the chicks will cream!” I had no idea wtf that meant at the time in fact I probably screamed those lyrics for 20 years before realizing the innuendo. Summer Loving, Sandra Dee even the theme song I loved. The movie is introduced as a cartoon at the beginning. I thought that’s what it was at first. I love this movie with all of my heart just from the memories it conjures up. I can still listen to to this soundtrack from front and back with a smile on my face.

Elvis was still the fabric of the rock n roll music culture. I was fascinated by Elvis. I loved his rockabilly vibe with his boyish grin. I only knew him as the Vegas Elvis at my age. He was still a cultural icon and man the ladies loved him. Even though he was past his prime Elvis persona was everywhere. His music were jingles were everywhere to be found on tv and the radio. I saw quite a few men trying to emulate that look and style with the do and the chops in the 70s but there could be only one. Hunka Hunka burning love was a fun song and I’m sure I sang it at the top of my lungs at times. I can recall my friend Joey in Belle Meade being whisked inside of his house by his mother who was sobbing on a hot summer afternoon. Mr. Presley had died. Her house was filled with Elvis memorabilia.

My siblings I could only guess their tastes in music by the posters on their bedroom walls. I seem to remember Dan Fogelberg being quite the fawning over from a couple of my older sisters. James Taylor and Peter Frampton also. My brother David had black light posters of Zeppelin and Floyd in his bedroom that always smelled skunky to me.

Disco music was on the back nine when I caught on to it. It was loose and fun in the late 70s. My age wouldn’t reflect a strong bonding to that genre but I do listen to it today just for nostalgia. Village People were visually entertaining and their music was always fun to sing along to as a kid. Bee Gees were on every radio and movie soundtrack. I loved Saturday Night Fever. Watching John Travolta dancing with his iconic finger jab and hip grind let me tell you every SOB from 6 to 60 probably tried to pull that same move on my old man’s checkered dance floor at the old Cock and Bull. I watched it with my own two eyes. Travolta may be a Twinkie in real life I don’t know but some of his movies helped shape my childhood. Culture wasn’t that cultural in the 70s. It was all commercially shoved down your throat, at least to me. I gravitated towards music that was fun to my ears. Lyrics I could sing out loud. I’ve always loved to sing to myself. My Sharona, Bohemian Rhapsody, I want you to want me, The Devil Went Down To Georgia was the southern national anthem for years. My eyes used to get big in anticipation when Charlie would sing “I done told you once you sonofabitch, I’m the best that’s ever been”. Turn that fucking volume up my 8 year old ass would RAGE. Certain artists I started gravitating towards were Billy Joel. I loved his piano playing and Allentown always reminded me of my father. My dad wasn’t a car stereo guy. He liked the sound of the wind with the window down. Not sure what music he enjoyed. I recall watching several black and white shows with Bing Crosby crooning, Engleberg Humperdinck (what a fucking name) Dean Martin. These were my dad’s memories so I’m not sure but I can recall him singing Upside Down by Diana Ross while my sisters laughed at him. It’s amazing the little memories that will adhere to your mind forever. I look back at that memory fondly. My family didn’t stick together long enough to produce any long term bonds in the same shared memory banks. I take in all I can.

MTV my music revolution

I was upended into Piedmont, SC while my puberty was still incubating. I have no doubt that little jaunt that came out of nowhere influenced my musical tastes. Geography, small town culture, friends and environment have lasting impact on your musical direction. I had a decent head start on music having a plethora of siblings in their late teens. I was a fly on the wall while my brother and sisters listened to their influences. Some of it seemed boppy or with my brother mostly jammy and dark. That was my brother’s persona. I guess what I’m trying to say is I listened to what was around me. I didnt have my own vessel of music to listen to. I sang along to what was playing in my immediate environment. I was 8-10 years old. My brother had a record player and one of those ridiculous stereo cabinets with the glass door that would pop open with his two giant speakers the same size of the cabinet with the receiver and all built in. I shared a 10×10 bedroom with him and I’d fall asleep at night watching all the little red dots on his equalizer dancing around. I wouldn’t touch that record player because he would kick my ass. Someone would later steal his record player and records at that apartment complex. I knew who it was but I never told anyone. That’s another story for another time.

The move to Piedmont introduced me to another genre of music. Country and Western. Do they still refer to it as that? I haven’t heard it called that in decades. The house I was relocated to overnight was filled with old and albums. My soon to be stepfather was a fan of vinyl and he had a Victrola that I would wind up. My mother was a fan of country music. I guess I never noticed how country my mother could be until we actually moved to the country. She was a bartender at the original Chiefs off Hwy 20 in Piedmont. Chiefs was a honky tonk bar and there was a band that used to play there all the time. Mom used to talk about guys named Randy and Jeff she was friends with that would sell out every time they played there. She loved them of course because they were named after the state she hailed from. You might’ve heard of them they called themselves Alabama. I think they hit the top 40 a time or twelve.

My mother enjoyed listening to music in the early afternoons. After we moved most of my brothers and sisters sort of tumbled out of the nest. With college, careers and marriages our Brady bunch theme became mostly my mother and me almost overnight. Peggy was in her early 40s and I think she was just beginning to find herself in life. A mother of four twice divorced , I imagine a lot of adventure and zest drove right past her driveway without her getting a chance to catch a ride. I think she could be herself more in Piedmont. I’ve only driven through Clayton, AL (her hometown) once and I could see the similarities to Piedmont. Maybe she felt more at home. I’d never watched her play music before until we moved there. This might’ve been her first quiet moment in 20 years.

She would play Alabama of course, Tammy Wynette, Roy Clark, Dolly. This was my first introduction into country. I was ok with it but it didn’t stick to me like rock and pop. The twang and lyrics didn’t resonate with me. We’d watch Hee Haw at night and I found it odd and dorky. Then one day I watched a tall dark cowboy with a deep voice holding a guitar outstretched in front of him staring straight at me through the camera. He was dressed completely in black and his voice was deeper than the bass playing behind him. I loved to hear him play that guitar. He was singing but telling a story at the same time. He was singing about an unfortunate kid with a girl’s name. A boy named Sue. I had just been introduced to Johnny Cash. Country music was about to cut into me sideways. This tall almost imposing looking man that resembled half the population of Piedmont at the time (why did everyone wear cowboy hats at that time?) pierced my ears. I loved his song writing and voice. It was simple and living in Piedmont it was becoming relatable. Johnny wouldn’t have sounded the same if I had watched Hee Haw in our old apartment off of Faris. Piedmont was a country oasis between Anderson and Greenville. It was a culture shock for me. Johnny, Willie, Waylon, George Jones those guys all seemed to make that transition a little easier. I soaked it all in but I discarded it just as quickly for about the next two decades I was distracted by the most influential and iconic tv station that would pop up in the early 80s. M fucking TV.

MTV changed my everything.

Everything

If you weren’t born around the same timeline as I was then I’m not sure I can accurately describe to you how influential MTV was to my generation. Before MTV the only time I saw music in tv was Soul Train on Saturdays after cartoons (really odd time slot tbh) Hee Haw of course and Solid Gold. Tv was fun back then y’all. I sat in front of the TV during the summer of ‘81 or ‘82 when we caught up with the rest of the world and got cable and turned it on MTV. I doubt that I turned that dial to another channel for 5 years.

MTV came at me hard. It was like a suit that was tailored perfectly for me. It became my friend. At this time I didn’t really have any friends. I had my bff right up the road and that was it. I wasn’t ready to accept Piedmont as my home, my mother didn’t drive so we spent our summers on Route 8 hwy 86 in our living room while I watched MTV for hours a day. In between I’d go explore the woods and pastures behind my house. I’d chase cows and keep my eyes out for wild dogs. Piedmont had quite a few then. I spent a lot of time by myself or hanging with my mom. My escape was the music television. Puberty was on the horizon. It was the perfect storm for me.

I don’t remember the first video I watched. It wasn’t that Buggles, the trivial “what video was the first that MTV played. In all honesty the song is mildly shitty. It might’ve been Blondie’s Rapture or Rod Stewart “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy”. Neither I watched with much attention. I enjoy both artists but they didn’t keep me glued. The videos were fun but not memorable. At least for the first month or so.

When puberty started knocking on my door my music tastes began to evolve. MTV put faces to the music. It also brought sex appeal. Lort I didn’t know wtf to do with that part. Rock n roll fueled my puberty. If I had to put on album on the wall that represented my puberty it would have to be one of the greatest of all time, 1984 by Van Halen. Also the greatest band of all time.

Now listen, I know we all have our own opinions on the best and greatest. Sometimes I’ll flip and give you another band or album. In all honesty Van Halen’s debut album is better than 1984 but the timing was off. I didn’t listen to Van Halen until MTV. 1984 album is iconic to MTV. Jump, Panama and Hot for Teacher were MTV songs. Van Halen could throw down on music videos my dudes. David Lee Roth is one of the greatest front men of all time. Dave and MTV were like peas and carrots. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to replicate that high leg kick of DLR’s on the jump video. My hamstring will never forgive me.

MTV impacted me musically and culturally more than any other media up until the invention of the iPod.

MTV gave me Van Halen, Michael Jackson, The Cars, Lionel Richie, Duran Duran, Eurythmics, Journey, Bowie, Queen, Hall and Oats, Culture Club, Styx Men at Work, The Fixx, The Pretenders (Chrissie Hynde is amazing), Stevie Nicks, Cyndi Lauper, Wham, Springsteen, Madonna, Frankie goes to Hollywood, Kenny Loggins, Tina Turner, Phil Collins, Wang Chung, bananarama, Benatar, Huey Lewis, Billy Ocean, Corey Hart, New Edition, The Time, Whitney Houston, Bon Jovi, Poison, Motley Crue, Whodini, The Deele, Rick Springfield, Romantics, Night Ranger, Chicago, Petty Bryan Adams, Dire Straits, Tears for Fears, Elton John, Howard Jones, Talking Heads and last but not least because he deserves his own recognition the one and mother fucking only Prince. I used to stick 1999 in my 8- track player by my bed and listen until it until it flipped for side two. I could listen another half hundred or so but you get where I’m going.

Breakdancing to Whodini, Newcleus, Midnight Star and Herbie fucking Hancock. I did the centipede, windmill and I could moonwalk with the best of them in my pointy shoes I wore to my 8th grade dance.

The one hit wonders were timeless. A-ha, Katrina and the Waves, Til Tuesday, Falco, The Outfield, Rockwell and Nena just to name a few.

My favorite videos were Money for Nothing, Thriller of course, The Reflex from Duran Duran and California Girls by DLR. Did I mention influence puberty had on me? Woof I wouldn’t even watch that video with my mother in the room.

My friends and I each had our own personal boom boxes and briefcases full of cassette tapes. we’d have slumber parties and set our jam boxes around the room and rotate our playlists with the likes of Lionel, Michael Jackson, Prince and the Revolution and Midnight Star. Sometimes I’d borrow my brother’s boom box when he was out of town. His had a removable tape player that doubled as a Walkman WHUT?? It made me the jewel of boom box affiliates and I rode that as long as I could.

Mix tapes became my jam I would sit in my bed with my fingers hovering over the record button on my jam box while Rick Dees and Casey Kasem chimed on Sunday morning radio for four hours counting down the top 40. I wouid get chills when my songs came on. I hated when the DJ talked all the way up to the start of the song lyrics. He was fucking up my mixed tape vibes. How many of you hear a song that’s a blast from the past and automatically assume a certain song will immediately play afterwards because of an old mixed tape you wore out listening too over the years. I can’t listen to Don’t Stop Believing (one of the greatest songs of all times) without expecting the next song to be Footloose. While we are discussing Footloose can we talk about how the movie soundtracks in the 80s were fire?? Footloose, Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Beverly Hills Cop, Breakin, Fame, Purple Rain, Back to the Future, Rocky IV for Christ sake was a banger, Dirty Dancing. Hell even TV soundtracks hit! Miami Vice anyone?

Mid to late 80s love songs and lyrics started making sense. I had a few crushes in my high school days but I was way too awkward to ever even talk to them. Love songs started landing on my loins and I didn’t know what the fuck to do with them but they certainly stirred my unchecked heart. This was the decade for monster ballads and I was here for all of it.

The first band that will always come to mind when monster ballads are brought up in conversation would be Bon Jovi. I’ll Be There For You started to hit different. Girls where on my mind starting around 1984. I was kept fairly close to home in my teens. My parents must’ve been petrified with the thought of me talking to girls because any opportunity or function that showed itself where I might be able to achieve that my parents poo poo’d on it. My first time away from my parents for more than a day was my junior year beach trip. I was too scared to do anything rambunctious. I had one wine cooler all week and spent my time babysitting my drunk friends. I made up for lost time on that one.. As the girls boobies got bigger so did my appetite for love songs. Imagine that. The Ballad of Jane, When I’m with you by Sheriff? Alone by Heart, Right there waiting for you, Richard Marx (shut up Kelley) Love Song by Telsa was the ballad of Wren High for a bit. I still love that song even though it’ll never attach itself to a face. I had some healthy crushes in high school. I’m even fb friends with a few of you. You will never know who you are. Winky face and shit.

I had my first drink and make out session to the Whitesnake self titled Album at 16. I thought to myself “fuck yeah my life is about to change forever” but that was it for another year or so.

Back to Van Halen for a moment 5150 will always represent my puberty. I’ve listened to that album front and back more than any other. When that album begins I can smell the clear plastic cassette it was recorded on, sitting on a blanket at Anderson Beach noticing bikinis for the first time. Probably a cheap cooler of Pepsi by my side. I’d only lie on my stomach in public I went through a chubby phase for awhile. Or I’d just wear a shirt in the lake. Puberty was unkind to me. I’m sure that cooler of ice cold Pepsis didn’t help.

Big hair bands came about the same time my teenage rambunctiousness hit me. The more sheltered lifestyle I had faced the more rowdy I’d become. The years of school bus harassment put a little fire in my heart that still resounds this day. Guns N Roses Appetite For Destruction came out my junior year and it just fit me like a warm sock. Be bop and pop rock was slowly leaving my top 40 soul. My newfound desires were timed perfectly with the debut of this album. You could hear the mullet coming out of the back of my head. GnR, Poison, Motley Crue, Suicidal Tendencies, Warrant, Cinderella, Tesla, Ratt, Wasp, Whitesnake made me rowdy. It could just be the chicken and the egg but it grew on me as I grew. Alcohol and lovely young ladies were on my mind. I had my first taste of partying and cigarettes. It seemed anytime I was within reach of these partying products one of these bands were playing in the background. I was here for it.

Quiet Riot brought out some fun teenage rage. Banging my head and driving like an idiot. I didn’t care man, adult freedom was just around the corner and I was priming myself for it. Parents I’ll just say this, don’t try to keep your kids away from some of the things they need to experience on their own. All you’re doing is just pulling that slingshot band back a little more and more until they are ready to shoot the fuck out of your house like a slung rock. That’s a little bit of what happened with me.

I can recall skipping school my junior year. All we did was drive to the GA border and turn around. The trip lasted as long as it takes Beastie Boys License to Ill to play front and back 4 times. We were sipping schnapps from an old English cologne bottles. Certain there was still cologne residue in the bottles but that cassette turned hip hop into art for me. The Beastie Boys I’d put in my top 5 of favorite bands of all time. I was fortunate enough to see them at lollapalooza in ‘93. Might’ve been ‘94 can’t be too sure.

My first full time job I was cutting fairways at Donaldson Center Golf Club after I graduated high school. From 8-4 all I did was sit on an old diesel tractor and mow fairways and tear up some golf balls. I played on occasion but I never got golf. I did enjoy running over balls after they’d bounce off my tractor. That caused quite the stir with my employers.

I had my Walkman in my ears while getting the best tan of my career. My leg hairs turned bleach blonde for gosh sake. I kept a backup of batteries in my jeep and if my Walkman died I’d drive the tractor over 4 fairways and replenish my song supply. I’d have a little satchel of tapes and listen to Milli Vanilli, Neneh Cherry, Bobby Brown, Love and Rockets. For some reason music took a dip in ‘89. In my eyes at least. I struggled with quite a few things my senior year. I had enrolled in Greenville tech but it wasn’t my go to it was more out of obligation. My mentality when I left high school was bland. The thought of college didn’t do it for me. Furthering my education wasn’t my ideal agenda but it’s forced down your throat your whole childhood. My grades were shit as was my attitude.

Your musical vibes can also reflect this. It mirrors your mental health. It’s no big surprise. When you’re sad you listen to songs about heartbreak and loss. When you’re happy usually vibes with upbeat tempo songs coming out of your speakers. Dancing music to feel alive or a good songwriter to lighten the mood. When you’re angry you want a fast tempo, you want it loud. Gripping that steering wheel while pantera fuses your foot to the gas pedal.

Music speaks to us. It also allows us to express ourselves through our souls. Music is my love language for sure. If I’m sharing a song with you it’s completely out of love or friendship . You don’t have to like the song but I want you to know why I love it. I’m sharing a part of my soul with you. I’m pretty much doing it now on a broad scale.

I feel like I slept on music for a bit. What I mean by that is from probably 89-92 ish music wasn’t on my mind. I was transitioning from kid to adult, living away from home, madly in love with a young lady and a life full of new found freedom. Music was still there but my musical tastes shifted to 70s rock. Zepellin, Doors, Steve Miller Band, Dead, Aerosmith. My new lifestyle reflected this style. Recreational drugs had been introduced to me. My music tastes went a little sideways and retracted. Its interesting to watch your musical environment evolve through environment and persuasion. I couldn’t walk into a house party without The Joker playing on the home stereo in the early 90s. Doors had made a small comeback because of the movie about them with Val Kilmer. I was here for it. The Doors were dark. I had a small man crush on Jim Morrison. I even owned a few pieces of his literature. For a brief time I fantasized about living in a little boho flat in little five points Atlanta, turning myself over to recreational drugs and vagabonding until my heart stops. I went through quite a transition when I left the system. The vagabond lives inside of me and never went away. Cutting the drinking out made him a little more reliable.

Grunge

Man if you want to talk about the right music at the right time. Grunge was dropped on my doorstep right when I needed a musical shot in the arm. I was a partier. I loved big throw downs with all my friends. I was a fresh 21 years of age, I was a social fucking butterfly going out as often as 7 nights a week. I was no longer sneaking around hitting strangers up for alcohol at gas stations because I was underage. I was living with four Furman football players two of them being my BFFs and they all had giant stereo cabinets in their rooms. Guys never stop playing with their toys growing up. They just evolve along with us and grow power cords.

1991 was like a pez dispenser of GOAT music.

Nevermind, Nirvana

Ten, Pearl Jam

Blood Sugar Sex Majik, Red Hot Chili Peppers

Badmotorfinger, Sound Garden

Out of Time, REM

Use Your Illusion, GnR

The Low End Theory, Tribe Called Quest

Pairing this with my 21 year old legalized freedom and lifestyle and it was a match made in heaven. CDs were becoming mainstream which meant everyone started carrying around 40lb CD trapper keepers in their vehicles which meant leaving a 6ft CD tower at home soulless and empty because all the CD casss were empty. My first 10 CDs were from those Columbia Record deals where you could get 10 for $1 before they tried to fuck you. Pretty sure I still owe them for those CDs. I still have a few of them to this day. I kept a 5 disc CD changer in my trunk with a little digital remote control velcro’d to my console. I paid $500 for that damn thing in 1991.

The early 90s were a blur would be an understatement. Most of what I can recall was a lot of late night music blaring through shitty speakers in dark bars with cheap liquor. I seemed to get into bar fights whenever Metallica was playing or the Meat Puppets.

Late nights with the Breeders, Counting Crows, Mazzy Star, Morphine and Radiohead at Crocs. Getting high and smiling at Beck lyrics and singing Fumes at the top of our lungs. Prince changed his name for a bit but 7 will go down as one of my favorite albums of his.

If my partying wasn’t going hard enough as it was I joined the ranks of the Blockhouse and well you can kiss my memory goodbye until about ‘96.

I feel like music left my lifestyle for a while. I spent a lot of years slinging drinks and steaks at my old steakhouse. Musak ruined a hundred plus songs playing the background over and over again. Without having to conjur up some old stainy tunes “Give Me One Reason To Stay here” by Tracy Chapman may get me swingin’. Torn by Natalia Imbruglia, any Celine Dion, Shania Twain, Smashmouth, Third Eye Blind, Sheryl Crow all remind me of wearing ridiculously heavy starched denim shirts while reeking of hickory smoke and cigars. Where Have All The Cowboys gone may get your foot stepped on. Matchbox Twenty was about the only good thing that came out of that era. At least for me. I wasn’t exactly exploring my best cultured experiences outside of that restaurant for around 15 years.

Early 2000s

Listen before I blatantly attack and poo poo on music for a few years let me start off by saying that I was transitioning into another person from around 31-35 years old. Life was coming at me pretty hard and I was feeling the squeeze of adulting. I went through a period of some fun depression, heartbreak and a different kind of reckoning.

Bad breakups followed by a toxic relationship rebounds, my bread and butter slowly fading at the steakhouses (I saw a bleak future had I stayed). Add my brother passing away from opioids and it wasn’t a good state of minding for me.

My not so fun early 30’s were paired with the likes of Stained, Train, Destiny’s Child, Moby, Dido, Nelly Furtado, Kelly Clarkson, Daughtry (actually any song by an old American Idol contestant just pisses me off) Crazy Town, Jlo or whatever the fuck she calls herself, Evanescence, Sean Paul, Three Doors Down, Black Eyed Peas I hated them all. Music just didn’t resonate during that time.

Thank god I still had OutKast

If you like any of these artists no offense. Every single person on that list has more talent in their fingertip than I. I just don’t like their musical style.

Also

Nickelback isn’t as bad as everyone wants them to be.

I had a Johnny cash obsession for at least 2 decades. When I used to paint he was my go to. I loved painting him his portraits. You’ll find quite a few Gangwer originals of him in some local households.

2009- 2012

I had bluegrass and freedom on my mind. I was opening Southern and wanted to take in as much Appalachian and bluegrass vibes as I could absorb. I was watching the Grammys one night and watched a group of young fellas mixing piano with some banjos and an upright bass. They called themselves the Avett Brothers and they were singing Head full of Doubt. I felt like I hadn’t fallen in love with a song in years and these guys got me back into it. Right behind them another young Irish band came out and played The Cave. Mumford and sons paired perfectly with Avett Brothers and right behind them out came Bob Dylan. They all crooned to Maggie’s Farm and I immediately downloaded every song Avett and Mumford created. I may have sent a little overboard because I burned myself out on them at SC. Musak filled my ears with them over the years. I can’t listen to either group without associating with Southern. It’s not necessarily a bad thing I had some good times there. Avett Brother’s music has aged ok but each new album sounds like they wrote it right after their family dog died. Would love to hear them jam like 2009 again. Also in case you didn’t know Southern was named after Southern Culture on the Skids. It was fashioned to be a rockabilly bar but it was a tad too fancy

Currently searching

The last 10 years my music taste has evolved a little but not much. Nostalgia rears its head at a certain age so I find myself backtracking to that oldies. By oldies I mean mostly 80s and Grunge. I burned myself out on some excellent classic rock. I still love it it’s a part of me but yeah I could go the rest of my life without hearing an Aerosmith or ZZ Top song. My ears have soften a bit I rarely bang my head although on occasion I’ll catch myself speeding down 25 with Pantera or NWO blasting out of my sunroof. Some newish country has made its way in my life. I like that Zach Bryan kid, love Childers and hope to see him live again. Jason Isbell is a fantastic song writer although he seems like he might be a prick in real life. Speaking of Isbell I came across him while listening to Drive By Truckers. A fav of mine with my old friend Brad Morgan from high school playing the drums.

Southeastern by Isbell to me is one of the greatest albums of all time. Hands down.

I found Sturgill Simpson on YouTube singing on NPR little desk concert and became obsessed. Love his old school country sound and songwriting. If you asked me who my go to was at this time I’d say Sturgill. He’s produced country, bluegrass and Sound and Fury is amaze balls. Plus I like his style.

Nowadays my vibe is more relaxed as am I. John Prine resonated with me when I’m camping and man I really dig Christopher Cross on my headphones of that makes me sound old I don’t care. Music is a reflection of your mood and soul. I love how mine has progressed into a relaxed setting.

I’m currently sitting here about to wrap this up at Glenville lake while Prine sings Donald and Lydia. Listen, take some time off and listen to this man’s song writing. It’s art.

I enjoyed writing this. The whole time I was shuffling songs while I sought inspiration for this blog and I feel like I took an upper. This is why I love music. ❤️