I am undoubtedly a morning person. I am also a massive music geek and I love listening to a really choice piece as soon as I get up. Morning people are only annoying, I find, if their morningness intrudes on your non-morningness. Thus, it is terribly convenient that a few years ago I bought myself DJ quality headphones that let me disappear inside the music if you close your eyes. Great headphones make SUCH a huge difference, especially if you've a hankering for some funk first thing and your partner isn't quite as enthusiastic about Parliament at seven am.
I grew up around music; I spent my first eighteen years in Prince Edward Island and in a particularly musical, hippy/ex-pat populated part of the Island. Both my parents are musicians - my mother plays fiddle and piano, my father plays acoustic and electric guitar, mandolin, banjo, fiddle, harmonica and bodhrán - and they have very distinct preferred genres. My mother favors classical, particularly baroque chamber music, while my father enjoys jazz and blues. While I adore classical, I favored my father and from about thirteen onwards I have immersed myself in old jazz and blues. I worked for HMV for nearly three years, though I didn't stay long after my jazz, blues and classical section became the jazz-blues-classical-rap-country-blue grass-folk-reggae-world music and adult contemporary (which is where people like Bette Middler and Barbra Streisand's music is placed, which I never knew). I mean,what the hell? Having the rap and classical sections in the same small space meant I got to watch the clientele try not to interact. The older gentlemen who came in every week to buy three Naxos albums for fifteen bucks tended to glare at the girls squealing about the latest Sean Paul album. I left when the pressure to upsell became an issue. It's too bad. I grew up on movies like High Fidelity and Empire Records to tell me what working in a record store was like. Turns out life isn't like a 90's movie.
I explored both rock and pop in my teens and I discovered Ben Folds early on. My best friend has, and always has had phenomenal musical taste. Even when it isn't my cup of tea, I can see the quality in what she likes. She introduced me to all the formative bands and artists of my life: Tori Amos, Ben Folds, Sublime, Dave Matthews Band (though I discovered him on my own and have never stopped admiring his work), Cake, Phish and Streetlight Manifesto, though Tori Amos remains number one, for sure. Holy empowered, Batman. This woman taught me that you can write about your pain and it doesn't make you a victim. Hearing and seeing that in her work at thirteen, when everything was changing in my life was invaluable. I saw her live in Toronto; my best friend asked her parents and I asked mine if, for her birthday she and I could go to the show, stay with her sister and come home. We could do it all in two days and with no other expenditures than the flights and tickets, which were surprisingly cheap. They said yes.
Tori played three pianos: her grand, a tiny organ and an old, wooden one that had superb lower end, I remember that. I was, as I am now, obsessed with music that has great piano or bass and I tend to look for both in everything I listen to. Ben Folds opened the show for her, which was perfect. He, in contrast to her billowing white ensemble, wore a khaki shorts and tennis shoes and put on one of the best performances I've ever seen. He is such an enthusiastic,present, gifted pianist and strangely, even though I usually can't listen to lyrical music when I'm reading, there's something about his work that negates that works for me as study music. I can have Redneck Past banging away and be writing a critique without issue at the same time.
This morning is bright and lovely. It is early and Concordia is quiet and empty. Saturday of Reading Week: most of us are either scrambling to get done the work we shirked while we visited NYC with our friends or we're still partying and will face our demons later in the week. Except, if you're me, you've been up at 7am every day this week to work on the fifteen page paper that was born out of a blog. This blog, actually. But, I have a friend from PEI staying with me and in order to be able to work and hang out I wake up super early, work until noon and then hang out and relax for the rest of the day. Yesterday we drank a nice red, caught up and made cocoa-honey facials. We may go skating this afternoon, but for now, I've got to write.
I'm in the library building, but not the library. I need somewhere where I can munch on almonds without needing to be silent and covert. I'm avoiding caffeine and going for pure protein route with raw, unsalted almonds. And tons of water. I can't stand the crash of sugar and caffeine any more. I did it too much in my undergrad and it doesn't really help me study. So, I'm downstairs in the extra study area they've set up in the mezzanine; it's empty and quiet and it's dive back in to my essay, but I'm bleary and uninspired. Then "Lullabye", by Ben Folds comes on my morning mix. I can't explain why but this particular song consistently makes me happy and excited to write. I realized have a few songs like this so I thought I'd make a playlist to share with any of you who might be struggling to get into the work that is due for Monday:
This also puts me in a good mood, though perhaps slightly more subdued.
Chill stuff, but still groovy:
Man. At minute 2:50 it just gets me.
Rather beautiful, I think. A nice way to start the morning.
Mmmm. So chill. This one centers me and I often find that I'm ready to start thinking critically after listening to it.
Stunning. Nice to study to if you like jazz.
And if you need a study break pick-me-up:
She makes me smile and I don't mind having her stuck in my head. Being in a good mood before I start working tends to make me more productive. (I also love seeing interesting, fun choreography that isn't narcissistic and vapid as many pop videos seem to be.)
This just rocks.
Happy and mood improving.
Danish alt pop. Amazing.
So good I included a second song.
More Parov Stelar. I feel invincible after listening to this. And that clarinet! Meanwhile, the video makes me yearn for days when dancing was this theatrical.
And of course, these guys are consistently awesome.
There you have it. My eclectic taste in music and the odd, empowering effect it has on me. Oh, and if you see a bleary-looking redhead in the Library mezzanine rocking out to her music, that'll be me. And now, I'm ready to write.
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