Loud music is an excellent form of quiet. When you can't hear the dog barking because of the guitar solo in your ear. Someone nagging is drowned out by the bass line in your head. Nothing else resonates besides the shrieking words of a tortured soul.
That urge to crank it up to eleven is a desire that transcends age. Just as she said she loved me, but she had somewhere to go blasts out of a twenty-somethings car stereo, so too did I ain't wastin no more time, here I go again scream off a vinyl. Our generation isn't the first to jump around their room playing air guitar. Years down the road kids will still be slamming out a beat on their steering wheels.
My father is hard of hearing. Years of concerts, radio, and blasting out to rock have taken their toll. Can you blame him? If I had the chance to hear Led Zeppelin the first time it was on the radio I'd crank it up. Go to a Lynard Skynard concert where Gary Rossington went on a 20 minute guitar solo? Yes please. With the music progression that occurred during his young adult life, I'm surprised he can hear at all.
So crank it up, turn your brain down, and tune out.
4 comments:
(debating it....)
(well... he kinda left the door wide open for this)
(and he kinda pushed me into it)
(fuck it, it needs to happen)
LET'S TUNE OUT BY TURNING ON THE RADIO!!!
Touche sir.
I did enjoy the night when that was blasted in the EC.
aside from the all around awesomeness of that night/day we saw jimmy eat world, i think one of my favorite moments from that one day was blasting big casino as we drove the opposite way then we meant to go, deep into downtown tempe.
That's awfully Timothy Leary of you, Papa G.
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