Music plays a big part in my recollection of scenes from my past. Though I can divorce myself from the phenomenon when concentrating on a piece or song, I can easily swap out the chip (as they say, and I am paraphrasing, in España) and have myriad musics hurl me back into certain swaths of time. This assists me in recalling the whole event surrounding the listening “session”. The remembrance extends to fuzzy frontiers that are quite likely different for each “song”. The strength of impression varies.
A good example, and one I often for some reason come back to is during a walk from a shop somewhere in Galicia back to the tent I was occupying with Jana One in late summer of 2002. The music was the first few songs on Sometime / Anywhere by The Church. Now, these remind me of another prominent time in my life, also, and it seems contextual which nostalgic event washes over me - meaning the context of my situation in the present as I’m listening. In any case, I’m walking back to the tent along a dirt road that runs along one side of the whole campground. There were signs marking off the distance to the entrance. 200m. 150m. 100m. I thought about the length of time it takes to walk such distances and I wondered if slowing my pace would let me enjoy the moment more thoroughly. I had a bottle of beer with my purchases and knew it would irritate Jana One, but didn’t let it bother me much, as I was listening and strolling. I recall the air, the humidity, the track and the crunch from the soles of my shoes. I remember Jana’s surly impatience in everything as we travelled from San Sebastian to the western tip of Spain.
Music is very important to recollection. Because of this, I am saddened by the fact there is little music that I shared with Marisa. Nothing directly reminds me of her. Perhaps if I heard some of her favourite songs, they may, but there certainly won’t be many situations that come up that involve such a thing. On the other hand, much reminds me indirectly of her. They were all private listening moments for me - as I was in a headphone universe - but she was there in the room and / or we interacted intermittently concerning trifles. A good example was whilst we were in Siracusa and we both lay in bed doing our own things. I was reading (as usual) and listening to Hawkwind’s newest album Stories from Time and Space. Much of it, if I am not active listening, hurls me right back to that bed in that hotel, reading Geddy Lee’s biography. Marisa was beside me, doing her own things, writing, going over plans and thinking about painting.
It’s possible that this lack of musical context with Marisa during our time together will make our times dissolve more quickly - memory-wise. I find the thought rather disturbing. Even though I left in the end, the ten years we spent together were filled with amazing moments. BUT I say to myself again that many of those moments were, even though I was with Marisa, spent alone, doing and creating things alone with her somewhere else in the flat carrying on in her own fashion.
Music also sings association with the fetid place that I am in now, of course - Seminole, Texas. And, en realidad, some of those associations are extremely positive. The epoch from 2009-2012 is a bright moment in my mind. I should probably go back and reread Martenblog entries from that period for perspective. Numerous musicks bring it flooding back into my brain. Kiss the Anus of a Black Cat, Carla Kihlstedt (solo stuff), Tin Hat (also Carla related), Phaedra, The Mountain Goats, Incident era Porcupine Tree, some Radio Massacre International, etc. The brightness comes from the idea that I was very prolific creatively during the period. It’s true that Tony and I began working together again (for the last time physically together, unfortunately, I predict). Ajitter came to light and though listening to it now is not a very pleasant experience, the ideas are amazing. More of it will be remade in the future. And Fold will be remade again in the future. I also began writing my so-called “book” in the midst of this epoch. I’m not sure it’ll ever be finished, but, as with Ajitter, some of the ideas are fantastic. During those years, I was in Seminole, Prague, London, Tallinn, St. Johns, and Seaforth. The road trip from Texas to Newfoundland also occurred. Plus, I hung out many times with Justin. Yes yes - The Shostakovich String Quartets! They were part of that epoch.
Though I still have twinges, my feelings for Marisa (and unfortunately for Molly) have receded. They exist, but are distant. I can peer at them, evaluate them, sense them from afar. But the ache is gone. Tony always called me a romantic because after an emotional shock, such as leaving one’s wife or having one’s soulmate (I guffaw) do the abandoning, I am intensely wretched for weeks, months, even thirds of years, but then the ache fades and I am well again. I move on. Tony, on the other hand, never seemed to be able to follow suit. He most likely still pines for Melanie.
