Countdown to 30: Day Five

At one very low point along the old musical taste timeline, I dug these guys:
Joey McIntyre was my personal favorite. My sister, Tammy, and I would endlessly discuss John/Jordan (her favorite brothers) and Joey. And how one day they'd all come a-knockin'. Even if it was in our dreams.

Before NKOTB I remember loving Cindy Lauper and listening to pretty much whatever the older siblings enjoyed: Depeche Mode and R.E.M. (from the brother); even Milli Vanilli and Garth Brooks (from the sisters).

I've since gone through my Hip-Hop/R&B phase in 6th grade. This was around the time I'd call the local college radio station DJs, pretending I was much older than my 12 years, and dedicate songs like "In the Still of the Night" (a la Boyz II Men) to 12 year old boys who didn't know I existed.

In high school it was all things Broadway (with a little bit of Jewel, Sarah McLachlan, and other Dawson's Creek/Lilith Fair fare scattered in). Ragtime was my favorite. Then Into the Woods. The summer after I graduated I bought a Discman with my first paycheck. I recall listening to West Side Story as I walked (okay, maybe I skipped) in rhythm to the bus stop.

Until I realized just how nerd-a-licious my tastes were. And that boys listened to something a little bit tougher. Which was the impetus for my pop/punk/ska/rock phase. Blink 182. Weezer. Incubus. Sublime. Beck. Good Charlotte. Foo Fighters. (Whom I still adore--Rock Star Boyfriend, anyone?)

And then I became an upperclassmen. I'd taken Women's Studies 1010 (for 2 weeks). I was a serious-minded English Major. I bought all my clothing at thrift stores. It was an era of Ani DiFranco and Tori Amos and Chaco Sandals and bandannas in my hair.

And then I mellowed down the hippie-granola-vibe. I'm now smitten with everything from Glee to The Frames to Alicia Keys to Regina Spektor to Debussy to Ray LaMontagne to The Weepies. I've discovered that I don't really like what's on the radio--beyond NPR.

And the beautiful thing about music--it always takes me back. "The Right Stuff" still gets me dancin'. How can you not laugh and feel young and careless when the music of your lifeline comes drifting through the air? I celebrate music. Even the eras of really bad musical taste--and there were many. Each song is linked to a memory, a someone in some moment somewhere I haven't been in a very long time.

Here's to the stuff that makes my toes tap, my hips sway, my mind surge with memory. Here's to music. I delight in it.