Funny how things seem to go full circle. Will the circle be unbroken? Circle game and will it go round in circles? Circle of love and circle in the sand, round and round we go; where we will stop, nobody knows.
All the preceding circular motion was inspired by song titles, easy fodder for starting an overdue entry into my journal.
Music on the mind is a common occurrence for this journalist; albeit, more than just common, it’s a constant thing. Always a tune floats around in my noggin like a helium balloon piloted by an earworm, used to keep the aging synapses’ firing.
Hearing an old tune on the radio blasts me back to happy times when the song was initially popular, or to those horrible moments like when a death in the family had shaken the earth below me as if in an emotional earthquake.
That’s the magic of music, how it opens up the memory gates complete with feelings, transporting a being back as if he or she had stepped into a time machine. Vivid recollections result, firing more synapses and keeping the brain functioning like a well-oiled machine.
One of the worst things imaginable is the thought of losing one’s memory, like sufferers of Alzheimer’s when realizing soon they’ll not remember anything at all. The burden of that disease lies with those who have to deal with the individuals who no longer recognize their immediate family and close friends.
Getting back to music, when I was a youngster just getting to appreciate a good song or melody, rock and roll was in its infancy, like me, just a babe in arms in the ’50s. It was in the turbulent ’60s that rock rubbed off onto this rebellious youth.
My brother missed being a baby boomer by one year, having been born in 1945. His music was that of Elvis, the Coasters, going to the sock hop, doing the Twist and Mashed Potatoes.
I used to think his musical tastes were so corny and old-fashioned, what with the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Doors, Who, and you-name-them were bursting on the scene.
Now in my reflective years, I still love the rock and roll of the ’60, ’70s, ’80, ’90s and so on. Man that makes me feel old. I had to stop before mentioning the present millennium.
Yet, in my present stage of mortality, I have gained a new fascination and respect for the music of my brother’s generation, his being known as the “Silent Generation,” although I don’t remember his being very quiet, short for words, or not giving out a piece of his mind.
Looking to do covers compatible with my musical abilities, I find the early rock-and-roll, rhythm-and-blues and pop tunes are rudimentary in scale and easier to do, compared to those of Jimi Hendrix, Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Duane Allman, and other rock gods that followed.
The music of today is electronic and dubstep. Dance music is how I think of it. With my thinking my brother’s generation’s music was uncool, what do kids today think of my cover tunes from 60 years ago? Pretty corny and lame, I bet.
That was like my trying to appreciate tunes from the turn of the 20th century. “In My Merry Oldsmobile” comes to mind, although the jazz that bloomed in the ’20s was quite notable.
I just got a new guitar for my birthday. Surprised myself. It arrived early on the 11th, the illustrious day. Been having fun with it, a very bluesy-sounding instrument, and a lot easier to play than most.
Allow me to share a tribute to Sam Cooke, my latest cover tune while using the sweet axe pictured above, along with a bass, splash of organ and a bit of drums:
Spring is cruising past at a good clip. Labor day weekend is ten days away. Soon it will be summer, than fall, blasted winter, and then spring once again. Yes, we will go around in a circle as long as the mind and body are willing.
Thanks for stopping by and for your continued support.