Last night, while lying in bed, tossing and turning in a futile attempt to find a restful slumber, I found the trusty remote by my side. I began furiously surfing through the channel lineup, up and down, up and down, finding nothing but Rita, Rita and more Rita, when, suddenly, I was confronted by a long-lost love.
At first pause, lying perfectly still, I wondered, Haven’t I been here before? and I remembered, rather quickly, that I had. I began to contemplate, Do I really want to go there again? Am I strong enough to resist? The answer became apparent, I was not, for within a single beat of my then pounding heart, I dropped the remote and sank even deeper into the soft down of my bed. The sound of his voice, rising and falling, the near whisper escaping from his lips, was almost too much to bear. I knew, then, as my toes began to curl, and my breath grew more rapid, that slumber would soon come easily, but only after…
Certain music can make you want to drive like a maniac, or stay up all night dancing. Others make you want to cry. Still others can lead you through the door to sensations seldom experienced in our rush to personal satisfaction: Like hot breath on the back of your neck, or the barely-there touch of another’s fingertips sliding slowly up your bare back, some music can make the tiny hairs on your body stand on end. For me, as with most women, I suspect, the sounds of a bluesy ballad, a soulful pouring out of the heart and desires of a talented musician serves as an aphrodisiac of nearly unparalleled proportions.
There have been a few artists, and a few songs, that have made me feel electric. In the 80’s, it was Prince. It was powerfully sexual music, but music that had to be played at 2:00 a.m., and after a few drinks to be truly effective. As I grew older, my sense of what was sexy, or sensual, grew with me. Now, my choice of music, if you could call it a choice, tends to be more subtle and, often, the songs are of loss and heartbreak. The artists and their music, are varied, yet there’s something amongst them that tugs at me…something that makes me want to crawl into bed, and spend the rest of the day there. Marvin Gaye, Billie Holiday, Al Green, and Otis Redding all make me go weak in the knees, but so do Bob Marley, Travis Tritt and Patsy Cline. Hall and Oates, for all of their cheese, have a little gem called ‘Sara Smile’ that has remained one of my favorite songs for more than twenty years now. The Cowboy Junkies have been a constant in my life ever since my friend, Pat, gave me a copy of their cassette ‘The Trinity Sessions’ and told me that I was the only person whom he knew who would enjoy it as much as he. The music is folksy, and dark, and I can safely say that I’ve purchased more than a dozen c.d.s since I was given my first little taste of them in the late 80’s. It was their c.d. that was playing in the background when my true love, Brian, and I stood outside the rodeo arena, after our third date, and decided to spend our first night together. I’ve remembered Pat, and I’ve said a quiet little ‘thank you’ each time I’ve passed their music on to another.
Chris Isaak was another of my favorites. With a voice that can one can’t help but compare to Elvis, or to Roy Orbison, he sprung forth in the 80’s with the deliciously seductive ‘Wicked Game’ and with an even more seductive video. Shot in black and white, the video featured Isaak and model Helena Christensen rolling about, half naked, on a deserted beach. It was romantic and sexy, and not at all in keeping with the T&A videos that had become the norm for the time. I can remember listening to that song, to that cassette, over and over again. So, when last night, after clicking through the channels for several minutes, and I stumbled upon the PBS show ‘Soundstage’, I was suddenly caught off-guard. There on the screen was someone I hadn’t thought of in years; their featured artist, Chris Isaak. I wondered why I had let his music slip away. How? could I have simply forgotten? Where are my c.d.s? And then, it all came back to me. It was he, his music, to whom I had turned when I was wallowing in self-pity after my breakup with Brian. I had sat alone in my car, playing the music over, and over, again. Alone in the dark, where no one else could see me, I wept for a love that was lost, and when I had cried for so long that I could no longer manage the strength to shed another tear, I packed Brian away in the back of my memories, and Isaak along with him.
Just as certain songs can evoke certain immediate feelings, they can also make you recall those that you felt long ago. The ridiculous song ‘Afternoon Delight’ was playing when, at thirteen, I attended my first make-out party. Prince’s song ‘Kiss’ was the song in the summer of 1986 when I was but twenty-one years old, and every weekend I would drive to the beach, to lie, basking in the hot Florida sun. It was the music of Patsy Cline to which my thirteen year old daughter and I would sing our hearts out, during those rare moments free of teenage angst, when she felt it was okay to be my little girl again. Through all that I have enjoyed, and through all that I have endured, it is music that allows the most vivid of recollections.
So, last night, as I sank into my bed, feeling the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck, I remembered how good it could feel. I realized that I can now look back upon it all; the love, the joy, the loss and the bitterness, and I could, (I wanted), to hear that music again.
And now, I don’t know why I waited so long.
(A sample of more than a few of those songs that make my hair stand on end, linked below the fold…I hope you enjoy.)
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