Music On Your Sleeve

I think one of the hardest things to do is to show someone the contents of your iTunes library.  Music is so personal and intimate that it’s really like showing a stranger the contents of your heart.  I get nervous anytime someone wants to see my phone to see what music I have on it because I don’t want someone to judge me or be like “ew, you listen to that person?”  I’m tired of people making assumptions about me because of the music I listen to.

I’ve been having a problem with my iTunes syncing with my phone recently, so I scheduled a genius bar appointment for tomorrow and I’m a bit nervous.  I mean, I’ve done it before, and the people at the Apple Store are generally friendly.  I just don’t like people scrolling through my iTunes.  Which is really odd because I tweet, write, and blog about my music taste all the time.  Like, I don’t mind trending #PhillipsSongOfTheDay and creating Spotify playlists for random people around the world to listen to, but I can’t deal with a Apple genius accessing my iTunes to help me.  In all probability they’re too busy to actually judge my music preference.  Even if they did, the chances I’ll ever run into them again or them remembering me are so slim.

But I think this emphasizes this change the Internet has put on my generation: we’re more aware and self-conscious about our interactions in person, but when we’re online we pull out all the stops.  It’s a blessing and a curse, really.  For me, I’ve been able to open up about my musical taste and share my knowledge online because I don’t get to see my reader’s reactions.  I sort of did when I had the comments activated, but some people were rather ruthless.  Just because I didn’t know the person, they felt no shame in writing rather horrible things about me for what I objectively wrote about. It’s odd that the Internet can do such a thing as opening us up as a society and connecting us, but yet making us anonymous enough to tear each other down.  It’s like the Internet is a big window blind, and while sunlight my peak through and permeate the room, we’re shielded from ever truly experiencing the physical nature of a person.

I guess what I need to do the next time someone wants to make fun of me for liking the music I do is to remember the fact I have a musical preference.  I know who I am and I know what I like.  And I will never apologize for who I am.

Where Is My Mind Rework

So I’m just hanging out and relaxing on a cold Sunday afternoon, and I hear this commercial come on the tv from the other room:

And within seconds, I realize the song they’re playing is an orchestral arrangement of “Where Is My Mind?” by Pixies.  This isn’t the first time I heard companies rework this particular song to promote their products, but I think this particular arrangement is powerful and beautiful.  One of the many things I love about music is that a song can be taken and be transformed to transpire another emotion or feeling.  Just by changing the arrangement, the instruments used, and the tempo, the same song can take us on a different journey.

Here’s the original version of “Where Is My Mind?”: