Posts tagged music

I haven’t bought a cd since May of 2006. I know it was then because that’s when Pearl Jam by, uh, that one band that was super popular in the 90s and will always, always be super popular was released. By the way, when I was looking for that release date, I almost hyperventilated when I stumbled across the announcement that they’re reissuing Ten. I’m saving my pennies for the set that comes with “…Eddie Vedder-style composition notebook filled with replica personal notes, images and mementos from the collections of Eddie Vedder and Jeff Ament, a vellum envelope with replicated era-specific ephemera from Pearl Jam’s early work and a two-sided print commemorating the Drop in the Park concert.” REPLICA PERSONAL NOTES! EPHEMERA! And that set comes with vinyl, so I can play the records on my Fisher-Price record player. I don’t even care.

So, I think Bryan might have bought Pearl Jam for me for my birthday and it sat on my desk for days and days until I finally had time to listen to it on a drive up to Michigan. Except I couldn’t read the liner notes because I get carsick when I read. All of the days leading up to my chance to really listen to it were filled with looking at it forlornly and fondling it and then being interrupted by the children. And they were kind of little back then so, though I did make them listen to Violent Femmes, they railed against any kind of deeper-voiced stuff. They weren’t fans of Pearl Jam and I wasn’t a fan of whining so I didn’t get a chance to listen to it very much.

I remember whole days spent in my room listening to new music over and over and over again, while reading every last sentence in the liner notes. If the lyrics were included, of course I would have to learn every single lyric first and then begin reading the liner notes. And then make up a dance routine. That last part only applies to Cyndi Lauper and Madonna tapes, or my sister’s filthy Prince records. In the 90s, it was Tori Amos and Pearl Jam and, instead of a dance routine, I would make up an I’m-too-good-for-the-world-and-all-that-is-in-it routine, which may or may not have consisted of eye-rolling and pouting in front of a mirror. In flannel. Whatever.

I’m going to buy the kids cds from now on and just rip the music to their mp3 players. No I’m not. But I wish I would because I think they’re missing out on getting to know the bands they love. I think. I don’t know. Maybe kids these days would rather look up a band’s myspace instead. It just seems wrong to me.
Kids these days and their electronic internet. They don’t know what they’re missing. My instinct is to ignore their Christmas lists and buy them cds from their favorite artists, so they too can enjoy the wonders of the liner notes. But my gift-giving instincts are usually wrong so I won’t do that. Probably. I’ll just spend the days counting down to the reissue of Ten, and then when it comes out, I’ll lock myself in my room with a cd player and the Fisher-Price record player and, perhaps, some reading glasses, and I won’t come out until I feel that Eddie Vedder and I are, once again, psychically connected through the liner notes.