I’m ashamed to admit this, but I don’t currently own a proper CD player, turntable or cassette player. I never thought it would come to this. I basically commandeered my family’s hi-fi stereo system when I was 6 years old so that I could listen to my small collection of Beatles, Yardbirds, Jeff Beck, ELP and Alan Parsons albums. I was probably eight years old when my brother-in-law gave me his old portable turntable with detachable speakers (perfect for a late 1960’s dorm room). He’d moved on from Rock and Roll, whereas I was hooked--in a bad way. My favorite activity was listening to Beatles albums LOUD with the bass cranked, treble all the way down. I’m not sure why this was so intoxicating for me. I guess I just really love bass. When I got a drumset at age 13, I practiced along with records. What other way is there to learn? When I went to College at 18 I took a boombox and a milk crate full of tapes. My Sophomore year I took my parents old turntable and plugged into my roomie’s receiver. We listened to music non stop: Echo and the Bunnymen, U2, the Cult, Guns and Roses, the Smiths, Midnight Oil, Pink Floyd, Santana, Naked Raygun, Joy Division, New Order, The Clash, REM, Guadalcanal Diary, Love and Rockets, the Cromags, Murphy’s Law, Camper Van Beethoven, The Jam, Bob Mould, The Replacements, Trip Shakespeare, (room mate was a Minnesotan) Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, and of course the Beatles. Albums gave way to tapes and they gave way to CDs (my first CD purchase was Cream Live at the Royal Albert Hall) and CDs started the slow digital unfurling which lead to Mp3s and that leads me to where I am today: Sitting at a computer (along with everyone else in America). AND I have my Honda. And those are the places where I listen. The Honda sounds better and is a more pleasant way to listen to music except you have to drive. Sometime I just go out to my parked car and listen. No one bugs me.
I’m making an album now--the 3rd full length for my band. I spend a lot of time listening to ruff mixes etc.. so much so that by the time the album is finished, I rarely listen to it again. But that’s my job: I make ‘em, you listen to ‘em (hopefully). I made a video from the inside of my car, driving north on 101 crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, looking out through the cracked windshield on a foggy Friday afternoon on my way to a drum gig with Shana Morrison. Take a ride in my Honda (that sounds creepy) and meditate on the ghosts of home stereo systems past.
