Cold Shot
The first time music really hit me I was eight years old. I was in the car on the way to Cutler School.
My Dad put on "Cold Shot" by Stevie Ray Vaughan and it absolutely rocked my world. Core memory. That opening riff will forever live rent free in my mind.
And minutes before walking into a building where I was about to get lectured because I wanted to play Number Munchers instead of learn cursive.
Sue me.
That was the first time I understood that music could rearrange the temperature of a moment.
Influence
My Dad listens to everything. And I mean everything.
Some of it I understand (Zeppelin). Some of it requires what feels like a psychedelic experience to appreciate. He loves Zappa. I don't. That's fine. He also introduced me to deep jazz cuts that I'm still trying to figure out.
Jim Patrick (RIP) picked up where my Dad left off. He was the one who pulled me into the 90s. STP. The Wallflowers. 90s rap. He knew what was good before I did.
Schroder and I geek out on Jack White and anyone who can absolutely rip a guitar. Schnit (Mark) sends things from left field.
My brother-in-law Sam loves music as much as I do. Probably more. He's better at actually going to shows. He'll text something I've never heard of and within ten minutes I'm wondering how I missed it. He points me toward artists I would've completely overlooked.
I'm lucky enough to be on a text thread with those guys and my Dad. Music flying around at all hours.
That thread alone could score half my drives.
The Car
When I get in the car to go take photos, I don't turn on FM radio.
No offense to FM radio.
I ask a different question: what is the mood today?
What's the weather doing?
What am I shooting?
How do I feel?
Some mornings it's Kendrick — Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe — because that song will always pick me up.
Some mornings it's King of the Rodeo because it still sounds like the early 2000s and nostalgic high school music always hits.
If my wife's in the car and we're heading to Plymouth (America's Hometown), it's her 90s playlist. The Goo Goo Dolls. Smashing Pumpkins. Hootie. You get it, it works.
Lately I've been deep into The New Basement Tapes and if you don't know it, look it up. It'll change your life.
I always have something on, even if it's low.
Music is directional and it changes the way you see a scene.
Right Now
These are the ones in rotation at the moment. No order.
Bradford's Liquors on Sandwich Street glows like a stage light on a winter night.
Good music helps.
- Down on the Bottom — The New Basement Tapes
- I Like the Way You Walk — The Donkeys
- Here in Spirit — Jim James
- Falling Rain — Karl Blau
- Cortez the Killer — Davy Knowles
- Another Day in Paradise — Phil Collins
- I Look Good — La Reezy
- Eternal Light — Free Nationals
- Do You — GHOSTWOMAN
- She Knows Too Much — Thundercat, Mac Miller
