my last year of school in chicago, some random evenings would begin with someone buying a couple of CD's or bringing CD's somewhere ("what are you up to?" "absolutely nothing, but I got music") and end with everyone in a living room crowded around a coffee table full of mudslides and beer. inevitably, some mess of rock and electronica provided a backdrop for fervent and entertaining conversations which were punctuated by the more tipsy of us exclaiming, "you've never heard of [the YADDA YADDA band]?!?! you MUST listen to them RIGHT NOW." as nerdy as it may seem, this wasn't a competition to belittle our friends and lord our extensive music knowledge over them. the evenings weren't frantic with strutting and puffing of nerdiness. well, not always. more often than not, these were evenings of simply enjoying good things; beer, music, company. it was us saying "savor this. relish its awesomeness."
during one of those weekends or between them or whatever, I got a wild hair up my ass to develop a playlist entitled "music to lay around and waste the day to." the goal was to create a mix that wouldn't put you to sleep, wouldn't make you feel antsy and wouldn't make you feel like laying around all day contemplating or just enjoying music was a waste of time. after awhile, milan and I managed to string together a series of songs which created a vague impulse to sit down and maybe recline a little, but nothing worthy of the title. the project was soon aborted or forgotten and filed under "random shit that would be cool to work on after I get a perscription for adderall."
the garden state soundtrack is what I would've tried to create, if I hadn't kept myself so busy with being lazy. the music is, for lack of better descriptors, refreshing. comforting. the songs seemed to be selected in the same "hey, listen to this, it's neat" way that we spent our weekends. so much of pop music nowadays seems to inspire or express angst, pain and irritation. or, the music is designed and manufactured to make us feel cool. "I broadcast my badassedness by blaring sheer cool from my speakers. acknowledge my might!" not that I myself don't occasionally roll my car windows down and crank up the ludwig van, but such constant brazen self-assertion and angst tires the soul. I find myself more and more easily exhausted by the clamoring and whining of "sir, I exist!" from those who haven't realized that, frankly, the universe doesn't give a damn.
take a break from all that. sit outside. put the album on. take a deep breath. let yourself be saturated in the everyday visceral. the soundtrack makes no demands of you or your attention except maybe one; drift. obey and after a few moments, I swear it seems like even the trees sway in time to the music. maybe I'm just a sucker for music that makes me want to lay down, close my eyes and smile. maybe 200 mg of caffeine is bound to make most people euphoric. whatever it is, this CD definitely inspires whatever bliss within you (even the most minute memory of it) to well up and sweep you away. some magic within the listless strumming and the gentle crooning inspires the sweetest melancholy, nostalgia, and optimism. cheers to the realization that so many ecstatic moments have come and gone, but should we choose, we can find ourselves immersed in more like them. cheers to the realization that a significant amount of our stress is about the insignificant. cheers to art that reminds us that the ecstatic can be found in the everyday.
buy this disc. savor it. relish its awesomeness.
