The Magic Of Music

You’ve heard me mention my belief in the power of energy, frequency and vibration. Music is the easiest form of experiencing that process.

Music to Raise Your Vibration: Why It’s Essential for Your Wellness Routine – Fifth Degree

No matter how hard I tried growing up, I could never master playing a musical instrument, which would have guaranteed instant coolness. My fingers were never nimble enough to handle a stringed instrument. Drums would never have gotten past the front door of the Mosholu Avenue family home. And I wasn’t about to start playing the triangle, which probably could have gotten me killed back in those days.

Probably just as well, as my singing voice is horrific, and I’m tone deaf to go along with my colorblindness.

My next-door neighbor, Martin Stransky (mentioned in the early parts of FJM), was compelled by his helicopter (and absolutely wonderful and stunning) mother, Bea, to come off the streets each afternoon, instead of playing with the rest of us urchins, so he could have his piano lessons. I actually felt sorry for him back then. Silly in retrospect, given that he grew up to be an internationally famous doctor, professor, publisher, musician, author, etc. So jealous of you, Marty.

Among the friends I actually hung with from St. Maggies through the AVFH days, until I got married, Joe Serrano,

probably came closest to making it big with his 80s band “Guilty”. Damn, I wish I could find that band photo.

And I’ve recently reconnected with high school friends like Bill Sunkel – (2) Facebook – and Pat Garvey – (2) Facebook – more through their second careers as talented musicians. Indeed, both Bill S and Paddy G get to headline a marquee in Free Radical. So, keep your eyes open.

But I’ve always loved music. I particularly loved songs that told stories. Ballads in particular. Songs about overwhelming love and tragic heartbreak. Songs I can get lost in.

Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours – https://youtu.be/-uFU79MGj00 – is a go to for me.

And as I love back stories, the back story to their recording that album is heart breaking and fascinating.

Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours: Inside the Iconic Album’s Messy History

Truth is that I would happily listen to Stevie Nicks sing my stage 4 cancer prognosis or my death row orders for electrocution. Huge 70s crush.

https://youtu.be/UmPgMc3R8zg?list=RDUmPgMc3R8zg

Indeed, you can find me dancing to this song in Claire’s Barn on Tik Tok.

https://www.tiktok.com/@wisecelt/video/7442703751909018926?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc

After all, music is also where you hang your memories. The soundtrack of your life. Find a song and there are terabytes of memories attached to it. String enough of those songs together and there you are.

Thanks to the AI fueled Interweb, I’m constantly getting lost in songs from my youth that keep appearing on my feeds like a hit of crack.

The Magic of Music | Psychology Today

This morning, for instance, I must have been enchanted by no less than eight different feeds of 80s one hit wonders (a concept I always found fascinating and later desperately feared once TWA landed successfully).

Another factoid, One Song Glory, from Rent probably propelled me back into writing.

I didn’t want to die with a song still within me.

https://youtu.be/_QvjcVUlvd4

But music does that to you. It soothes your soul and compels you to travel through time. You are driving in your car all by yourself, and suddenly a song comes across the speakers, and you disappear from the present until you pull into a parking lot five minutes later without any memory of how you got there. Your body went on autopilot and got you to your destination in one piece (or the aliens snatched you for a quick anal probing). You also don’t recall how the volume level got so high. Memories that now fill your head, like you are back in the moment you first heard a song, then begin to disappear like you are waking from a dream and dropping back into your present.

For example, the Moody Blues’ Nights in White Satin, https://youtu.be/qbqxbGm9hBI, triggers visceral memories of some of the greatest slow dances I’ve ever engaged in.

I vividly recall drunkenly singing along – doing chorus line kicks – with my trainers and friends on top of a gathered set of bar tables in the Steak House on Riverdale Avenue to Frank Sinatra’s New York, https://youtu.be/EEjq8ZoyXuQ, during my brief tenure as a Golden Glove boxer, again in the mid 70s.

Speaking of pugilism, Elton John’s Saturday Night’s All Right For Fighting, ttps://youtu.be/26wEWSUUsUc, triggers a memory of driving home in the coolest Camaro with its owner, Ralph Droz,

and my brother Eddie — who back in the day looked like the photo below (the guy who was the photographer at my wedding is to the left of the photo – Eddies right – taken in the Bronx, 50 pct. He took the above shot of me and Ralph) –

from a particular fun and exciting group barfight (one Saturday Night) in a bar out on Long Island in the mid 70s.

Music forces you to remember moments in your life that you had marked as major turning points in your history and sometimes relegated to the no-go zone. Don’t go back there. Painful stuff. Fuck it, once more into the breach.

Arrowsmith’s Dream On https://youtu.be/iJDtukGW79Y will forever be associated with my late teens when I (and the rest of our crew) first had to deal with the death in relatively swift succession of some of our close friends. Suddenly, our immortal crew lost a few of the icons. Fucking scary. Sang that song many times, very drunk, along with the jukebox in Coaches II.

Cat Steven’s Sad Lisa, https://youtu.be/mVUS6G__6Vk, will always bring me back to listening to Tea for the Tillerman on eight track, with my then future wife, back at AVFH. Don’t get me wrong, Lisa wasn’t melancholic. She helped me get past my own low level, simmering Celtic melancholia. Pure projection. Although, it turns out, that life with me hasn’t always been puppies and butterflies. But she did fall in love with the pretty boy frontman and always believed he could make it as a writer.

And I always play music when I’m getting ready to write. It places me in an emotional setting, allows me to relive an experience. Places me in the zone.

So, maybe catching those doomscrolls of AI marshalled music probably got me thinking about writing this blog. There ya go.

Well, that was fun. But Saturday outdoor chores in extremely cold weather now call the tune.

Mustn’t grumble. Physical labor, especially when you get older, humbles you.

Well, hopefully my fine, five readers get to stay out of the arctic weather now blessing our country. If you need to escape the confinement, throw on Spotify and play the soundtrack of your life. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.

And dance like no one is watching.

But no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.