Look What the Cat Dragged In

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Don't be afraid to embrace a song, or how it makes you feel. Remember the person you were when it touched you, or where you were — Brian Azzarello At the end of December 2011, I finally read Robert McCammon's A Boy's Life. One of the more amazing reading experiences I've had—maybe I'd somehow known to save it for the month before I turned forty? Anyway, somewhere in it the grown-up narrator says how important it is to always keep listening to the new music, how that keeps you alive in a very important way, and then he goes on to list a lot of bands I'd never consider listening to. It flashed me back to one of CJ Box's Joe Pickett books, where Joe's daughter accuses him of getting off the music train at one comfortable station, and never going anywhere else, and what we get from this is that Joe's kind of stubborn and stuck, is afraid to move forward, is using what he grew up with like a security blanket. And then, on the radio some recent Sunday morning, a DJ was playing this clip of a Michael Stipe interview, where he was saying the day Patti Smith's Horses dropped, he listened to it all night, ate a bowl of cherries, threw up, and was never the same again, that he knew now what he wanted to do, to be. It really hit me, that. I mean, not the Patti Smith—I just had to look up how to spell her name (the obvious  . . . → → →