Smart
Listening to Zero 7 (Simple Things)
The album Simple Things is saturated in memories for me. This is one of my favorite aspects of music – its power to transport you to another time with complete clarity.
In the case of Simple Things I am brought back to a bittersweet time of confusion and the start of a major life transformation. (No, it wasn’t a sex change.) The relief I feel to have all that behind me is almost overwhelming (it really wasn’t a sex change), and adds a unique dimension to the album. I know no one else hears the same thing as I do when I listen to it. It’s my very own version, and it’s inextricably part of my life experience.
Music has shaped many of my life experiences, starting in college. But it wasn’t until I moved to DC right after graduation that I got immersed into the concert scene and music became the thread that held everything together. I had this fantastic group of friends, the likes of which you have only in your early to mid 20s. Right out of school, no responsibilities, dew-y optimism glinting on the brow, we ran all over DC seeking out the best happy hours and going to see bands in small, dark clubs. We’d go dancing on Thursday nights, not even leaving the house until 11p. I’d get home at 4a and get back up at 7 to go to work, my liver happy to get me back in good form by lunch. Being young and resilient is fun. Fast forward to now, when after my last “bender” (read “3 cocktails”) my liver said “Suck it, bitch. I’m out” and pretty much didn’t function for the better part of two days.
I struggle with this, on average, once or twice a week: I still have the desire to run around town seeing bands in small dark clubs but lack the stamina (and, frankly, masochism) for it anymore. If I’m out at a show and it’s 1 a.m. on a school night, you can be sure I rested up for days before, and have blacked out my calendar for the next three or more nights to recuperate.
More and more these past few years, especially as my daughter has gotten older, I’d rather be home. I take an almost perverse pleasure in saying, “No, I’m not going to jump through crazy logistical hurdles to attend what is sure to be the best show ever (most recently, SirenFest, Sleigh Bells / Antwoord, and Best Coast / Waaves). I’m going to change into my comfy clothes and play Connect 4 with my kid, and make pancakes for dinner and then watch a Pixar movie and go to bed at 10.” I think BestBlips would agree, sometimes the smart thing to do is to sit one out.
I realize I’m not blazing any trails with this admission (confession, really) that age and experience are starting to win out over my desire to be stimulated, awed and entertained. What seems to be happening is that I’m slowly achieving a pretty decent balance between indulging what little edge I have left and nurturing my inner adult.
The further I get into Simple Things the more I know I need to reprint this album with new memories. That way when I listen to it in another 5 years it won’t remind me of my gender reassignment (kidding!), but instead will infuse me with feelings of centeredness and promise, and memories of my contented little nights at home, in my comfies, not doing anything cool. I finally feel like I'm playing the smart card.
