So when one hits the other side of forty, (cough), nostalgia becomes a helluva drug, and this quick, interesting read so scratches that itch if you're any kind of music nerd at all. His voice is strong, and comfortingly familiar if, like me, you grew up with it.
If you aren't a music nerd, I'll be honest, you may not like this book, or at least you may not five star it like I five starred it, but then again, you wouldn't pick this book up anyway if you weren't a music nerd.
I am obviously a gigantic music nerd, and snob, obsessive vinyl collector since I can remember...sniffing my dad's jazz records and swooning to Harry James's horns...begging to listen to Elvis when we were done.
I have never been able to put adequately into words what music has given me, in this lifetime as a carbon based being. It's never NOT on, and if it's not on it's still in my head. It's like breathing.
Just the last few months I found myself obsessing again after discovering new-to-me band Cigarettes After Sex... Ordering records, scouring lyrics for meaning, swooning, looking for tour dates like I was seventeen all over again. I time traveled because of a new band. He would get this.
Ultimately, I'd love to sit down and just start talking to Matt... But we would never, ever shut up. He's the older brother I never had and desperately wanted, the cool older friend at the all ages club working the door who introduced me to the Cramps. I discovered punk rock and Riot Grrl saved my life.
My local record store downtown did more for my growth than any other influence. The second most important influence, which GOT me in the damn door in the first place was MTV and 120 Minutes.
I still remember taking the bus downtown to the Record Exchange for the first time, terrified. My friends had prepped me, which clerks at the counter were the "cool" ones and wouldn't check IDs to buy "stickered" records in the era of the PMRC (I was actually never stopped once, I'd like to think they were proud to see a young fledgling record nerd, personally).
Boise, Idaho in the 80s and early 90s was not the coolest place to grow up to say the least, but those two things helped me find my other fellow weirdos in high school and the soundtracks that built my life.
I'm rambling.
Thanks, Matt, for schooling me from afar, introducing me to other worlds until I could get the hell out of Idaho...and for writing an awesome book. I'm so thrilled Bowie is as cool as I'd dreamed he would be.