Bare Essentials

Hello, Silent Majority.

How y'all doin?

Me, I'm still on rock bottom. But it's cool. People are a lot more honest and relaxed down here than up there on snooty Cloud 9.

Currently, I'm in the process of vacating my premises. I will be moving onward and outward at some point, lurching towards the pacific like a drunken conductor at the helm of his metallic phallic symbol that rips through the heartland like so much Robotic Tommy Lee. The plan is to move out to LA (once funding has been secured. And if anyone out there wants to sponsor me, please call my 800 number: operators are standing by and you'll receive this nice Tote bag for your troubles), saying sayonara to Sucksville, MA for a while. Don't get me wrong, Non-Existent Critics, I love my home state. Massachusetts, a state with a chip on its shoulder and just enough beer in its belly to make it obnoxious and almost dangerous. Almost. Known for being liberal, bad-mouthed BY OUR OWN FRIGGIN PRESIDENT, and in love with all of our beautiful gay brides. But I'm sick of seeing a thousand cold fronts meet up with a billion warm fronts from the ocean which causes midgets carrying pudding to fall from the sky like a plague that was so bad, that even God passed on using it in Egypt. The Point: The Weather Here Sucks. It Sucks Hard. But that's not why I'm leaving, no I'm leaving for muddier pastures of Cal-EE-Forn-IE-A so I can be a grip on the set of "Pauly Shore Touches Andy Dick in the No-No Place" while still holding a B.A. in English.

But this is all pent up frustration that has nothing to do with the main point of the little blog entry you are reading. It's merely backstory, describing the warring factions of the Empire and the Rebel Alliance as the Star Cruiser that is the main point of this entry glides across the screen.

This entry is about Choices. Making hard choices. I don't mean choosing political parties, or personal philosophies, or which savior you want to bet on for judgment day (C'mon, Thor, Norse God of Thunder! Kick Ass on Ragnarok!). I mean choosing which CDs to take with me when I move outward.

Like most nerds of my generation--well let me stop there. I actually think it's nerds in general who have this trait--this trait of obsessively collecting things; whether it be comic books, stamps*, Star Trek memorabilia, rare books, posters, or what have you, nerds like to amount crap as if they are building a shrine to some benevolent deity who is obsessed with pop culture. A nerd's possessions act as a museum to his passions, and as an essay to whoever cares, loudly stating that he once lived and that he was moved by some art form or another. And that he probably had a really shitty social life. So with this said, it should be noted that I have over 1000 CDs. Easily. I don't count them, but the last time I did I had over 850. And that was over a year ago. and what a year it's been!

So now, due to the odd circumstances involved in my relocation, I can't take all of my CDs with me at once. Some are going to have to be left behind. I hope the nerds out there can understand the "Sophie's Choice" nature of my predicament. It's the same as when you go into a pet store to buy a new puppy, and whichever one you choose, you now have a whole wall of puppy dog eyes staring at you, silently judging you, demanding your reasons for passing them over. That's how I feel as I stand before my vast music collection: as if I'm about to break a bunch of puppy hearts--by which I mean I'm going to regret whatever decisions I make.

So the question becomes, How to Choose?

Does one go with what one already knows so well? I know Nine Inch Nails's "The Fragile" back and forth, verse and note. So do I take it with me? It's my favorite album of all time, so it should be at my side shouldn't it? OR do I cede it's place to an album I don't listen to that often. Do I leave Trent's soul baring, crushing, optimistic with a broken nose songs behind so I can unearth the true beauty that lies in the Last Action Hero soundtrack?

Do you go with familiarity or what is new?

The familiar is good. I like it. I know it well. I know the right moments to play it, and I know what it'll do to me and the mood around me when I put that CD in.

But I could get bored with it. I could get so sick of hearing The Flaming Lips sing "Lightning Strikes the Postman" that I forever ruin any chance of enjoying that song or my favorite band ever again. Que Triste. Variety is the spice of life, it's the one ingredient that'll make sure everything else keeps, if only for a little while.

On the other hand, the new is a wild card in the Uno deck of life. I mean, I kind of liked "You're A Woman I'm A Machine" album by Death from Above 1979. It was OK. Will I grow to love it if I have to? If there's no other alternatives? Is that how we make friendships, relationships, and tastes? By enjoying what's available to us. Are we all closet idealists, making the best of our circumstances and we don't even know it?

Ultimately, I'm bringing the albums I can't live without. Familiarity wins out, but there is some of the new, the unfamiliar in there too. I'm bring NIN's "The Fragile"; The Flaming Lips's "The Soft Bulletin" (Hell, I'm even bringing "Zaireeka" just to have an excuse to hang out with 3 other people**); Every Soundtrack to a Wes Anderson film is going; all of my Godspeed You! Black Emperor albums; Paul Simon, "Graceland"; Morphine, "The Night"; both Black Rebel Motorcycle Club albums--an ouevre that contains both a very familiar album (their first album is one of my favorites of all time), and something new (the second one I didn't quite get, but I'm willing to learn to love it). I'm going to try and finally crack Death Cab for Cutie, or else announce that I don't get it, and forever be shunned by indie peers. Maybe I'll resurrect all of those house albums from the late 90s (Chemical Brothers, Fatboy Slim, et al) and see if they stand up. Or if I get addicted to ecstasy all over again! Nostalgia rocks!

In the end, my trip to the sunny and fake land of Hollywood is as up in the air as what I will take with me to listen to once I make it out there. There'll be a lot of stuff that I love and know intimately, the Beach Boys songs that remind me of the promise of a summer's day, and the Beatles songs that display the solace in a solitary walk in the fall. And then there'll be those albums I don't know yet, but I know that I should know them...and I guess that's about 3/4 of the battle...or something. I'm not good with math in conjunction with cartoon slogans.

In the end, the choices we make help define the world we live in. And within that world we have to make still more choices. It's all one big M.C. Escher sketch where the paths all intersect and intertwine and fall apart in a dizzying displaying of geometry and psychedelic drugs. But when choosing what to bring with you as you walk along those paths, its important to always carry that which is closest to your heart while being prepared to welcome in the new experiences. The things we overlooked, or just never gave any due time to, those can end up defining us even better than what we once hailed as our anthem. All that matters, in the end, is whether or not it has a good beat, and if you're willing to sing along with it while on your road trip to the future.


"We're on the road to nowhere...come on inside...."





* Philatelist! My God do I love that words! Never has anything so nerdy sounded so lewd.
**"Zaireeka" is not just an album, it's an event. The Flaming Lips issued an album that spans four discs. That's not to say the album is four discs long, but instead that it is comprised of the sounds on four discs that are played simultaneously. So it entails four people standing with their fingers at the ready at four different stereos as they try and synch them all up. It's good, indie, artsy fun. Especially on weed. So go and tell your parents, kids!