What’s up with us and images? If you walk down the corridor and see some bling immediately HIP HOP is burned into your head. I see a dude with a sarong, and I’m thinking let’s go beat drums naked in the woods. If I see a pentagram/skull/goats head/something dead, and contrary to common belief I don’t think kill, murder or destroy. Instead I hear a deep resonating echo, I smell animals and cavemen, my ears filled with sounds of war, and all I want to do is beat something with a stick.
Music clearly defines us. It’s the form of media that isn’t directly influential like pictures and videos. Although anyone will tell you, it’s such a cool idea having music trickling into your ears through peanut-size speakers. Everyone wants to hear that ‘hidden’ voice answered, or blend into an untouchable background.
One question though…why is it so private? It’s pretty interesting looking into someone’s music collection (excuse me I meant to say iPod). I reckon it’s a bit like going through a stranger’s photograph album, the general atmosphere feels familiar, but you can’t help wondering about certain faces.
My theory is that it helps us to feel. I don’t mean the romantic look-at-the-moon,-stars,-trees-and-forget-your-lines kind of feeling. It keeps us rooted; it’s a fresh and different experience we can seal up inside and claim. It’s another ‘peesa pizza’. It’s another gun on the gangster rack. Or an even bigger stick for me.
Music is a language. It can juggle your internal butterflies the same way one attractive person will make your thoughts scream…IT’S PARTY TIME! It’s the sauce in your hot dog, the air freshener in your car and the wood in your toilet seat (on a cold day).
>May The Muse And Plato Juice Be With You