Living In Rhythm

Think of this as two blogs in one.

I love James Taylor. Anyone who knows me, knows this. I had the chance to see him this past summer, and I wrote about it, but for some reason never posted...Very odd. Anyway, I found this on my computer when searching for something else, and thought I'd share.

"I had the good fortune of seeing James Taylor in concert in July. I have been a fan since I was young and heard Fire and Rain for the first time. I was probably the only 16 year old girl with a cassette tape of his greatest hits playing in her first car.

Covering everyone from Elvis, to Buddy Holly, to George Jones, to the Dixie Chicks, Taylor somehow made every song feel like it was one he wrote. Perhaps the best cover was Oh, What a Beautiful Morning from Oklahoma! Here, you felt - literally felt - the talent and emotion in his voice and those of his hand-selected backing vocalists.

The sound was incredible. For a large venue, the sound tech somehow made it feel like you were listening to the entire show through headphones- that rich tone that fills your ears.

For me, this was one of those rare moments when you see someone and think to yourself, "here is someone who Gets It." Taylor knows his place in the world. In the music world at least. 40 years into a career and he still knows who he is and makes no apologies for it. His voice is absolutely flawless, and he plays his small body Martin like it's what he's meant to do. And really? It is what he's meant to do."

I can't even really describe how amazing that concert was. Words don't do it justice. In fact, that's probably why I didn't post this in the first place.

And now, I am listening to Ben Taylor (James' son). I have his cover of Macy Gray's I Try on repeat. Just incredible. I honestly always hated this song. Hated it. Hated Macy Gray, hated this song, would have been content never to hear it again.

But this cover reminds me that nearly every song can be good when performed the right way. Arrangement, vocals, production - it all comes together to create the song. I went back and listened to Macy Gray's version...still hated it.

I suppose the kid is blessed - to be the offspring of James Taylor and Carly Simon. Was there any chance of him not being a great musician?

Ben Taylor - I Try

Just wonderful.

Something wonderful happens when you hit your mid-20's. Your friends, who you love dearly, start to enter long-term relationships, having been through enough wrong people to have found the right ones. They start getting engaged and married and having children.

It's amazing to see the important people in your life finding happiness. I want to say that it's rare, but we all know it's not. But when you see someone close to you happy and excited, and planning a wedding, you can't help but feel like that is rare. It's unique to each person.

But then there's that voice in the back of your head, when you hear that yet another person is pregnant (or engaged, or some other life-altering event is happening). That voice that's reminding you that you're still single, and everyone else around you isn't. That voice can yell at you, and taunt you into falling for that old cliché...

The biological clock.

I am 24. I am young, and just starting my life, for all intents and purposes. I know sometimes I feel old, but I'm still closer to the beginning my life than the end of it (fate willing).

So why does my heart wrench a little bit when I hear someone else's great news? Other people are finding happiness and growing up, and as much as I'm a little afraid of that, I still want it for myself.

Someday.

I want to find that person who brings balance and comfort and love. Absolutely, I do. I love children, and would like to have them someday. Someday. That day doesn't need to be now.

But that ticking in my head, that voice, is still telling me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be thinking about these things. So is my mother, but that's a whole different story.

I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine (who just got engaged and I am thrilled for) about this, and she told me something that I will now think about every time I get that sinking feeling that I'm so far away from where everyone else is.

"You may feel the tick tock, but it is merely a wrist watch, not a clock tower."

Bring Me Down is an incredible song off Miranda Lambert's first album.

I love this song. The melody, the lyrics, amazing concept.

This is one of the songs I learned on guitar, in those early stages of playing, when I was fumbling through chords and looking for songs that I was capable of making sound half-decent. So I learned this song, and could sing and play it and it sounded alright; good, even.

It was right before I left on the road trip from Toronto to Vancouver when I moved west, and so it was fresh in my mind when we stopped in Moose Jaw, and I grabbed my acoustic as the sun was setting. There's a picture of me, sitting cross-legged on the grass, singing this song.

I didn't know that the picture was taken until it was shown to me, and my roommate/travel partner told me, in that way that was so uniquely him, that he liked the song.

I've talked about it before; how music can transport you back to a time or place.

Every time I hear this song - which isn't often because it's hard, sometimes, to go back to that time and place - I am with him, sitting in Moose Jaw, singing softly while he lays on the grass.

It should be a great memory, and it kind of is, but it's hard to relive it. And this song, in hindsight, is so fitting that it's not even funny.

Here's why:

You can't appreciate the time it takes/To kick a love I always knew was kind of wrong.

Finally bought a new/bigger/better shelf for my CD's. It's pretty. It matches all the furniture in my apartment (thank you IKEA).

I spent all day alphabetizing. I LOVE alphabetizing. I have considered getting a part time job at HMV JUST so I can alphabetize. I am efficient and quick. If it makes me a geek to admit that I love alphabetizing, I don't care.

So, not only did I realize that I had about 20 CDs in the trunk of my car (so that's where Infinity on High was...), but I realized that my album collection looks a million times better when the CDs aren't just stacked on top of my stereo. I should have done this ages ago!

I have far more CDs than I even thought. Well over 300. And that's not counting some of the stuff I've gotten off iTunes and haven't burned to disc yet. That is insane. It's crazy to see the collection when they're all lined up in perfectly alphabetical order.

I made myself laugh on a couple occasions. For instance: Fall Out Boy, Lupe Fiasco, Ella Fitzgerald, Jamie Fox, Aretha Franklin, The Fray. And that's just the 'F's'. Fairly eclectic.

So my CDs look so pretty now, that all I want to do is stare at them. I am a huge dork, but it's so true. It's like, my life's work all compiled and sitting on an affordable and easy to assemble shelf. Seriously, it looks amazing.

Not a bad way to spend a Saturday, if you ask me.

myTunes on random today, because I don't want to be tied down to a style. It's a beautiful, sunny Friday in Vancouver, and I'm watching boats pass from my office window.

And then Marc Broussard's Where You Are comes on, and I get a big 'ol goofy smile on my face. Seriously, how can you not smile when you hear this song?

First, the concept - I wanna be where you are. It's simple but so sweet and perfect. Basically the easiest way to tell someone you're into them. Just love that.

Then the lyric - Your touch is sweet as candy. Your kisses, they taste so fine.

This is one of those songs that sounds like summer. It sounds like driving with the windows down, the sun on your face as you sing along with the chorus.

I know I've said it before, but I love that music has this hold on me. Nothing else I've encountered in my life has the ability to flip my mood so quickly.

I was searching for something great/perfect/cathartic to listen to today, as I do every day, and as I was sifting through the piles upon piles of uncatalogued albums (note to self: must get to IKEA for more CD storage!), something both wonderful and terrifying was brought to my attention.

It's a simple concept, really, but one that kind of hit me hard, and I have been thinking of it ever since.

Not only, as I get older, does my album collection grow (rapidly), but the collection by certain artists grows. Again, simple. However, when I started thinking more and more about it, it started making me feel really old.

I was 18 when I bought John Mayer's Room For Squares. I remember hearing No Such Thing for the first time (home from college for a weekend and driving my parents' van with my sister riding shotgun), and feeling like I needed to hear everything from him that I could get my hands on.

At the time, that meant illegally (shamefully), downloading bootlegs of his songs - some of which still haven't been released. Now, I look at my album collection, and I have no less than 9 John Mayer albums (and some of those are two disc sets). Studio and live releases. Also, I have his two live DVDs.

Even crazier, I was going through myTunes today, and found three songs of his that I had totally forgotten even existed. I probably listened to them for hours on end back in the day, when I couldn't find anything else and was craving more after listening to RFS. And now, he's got so much music out there, that I actually forget about songs! It's baffling to me!

I started looking through my collection for other artists I have 'grown' with. Dave Matthews (but the guy puts out like, at least an album a year, live or otherwise), Ben Harper, Marc Broussard, Dave Barnes, Brad Paisley and Vince Gill. There are more, I know. Even Kanye, Alicia Keys, John Legend...I can still remember hearing them all for the first time, listening to all their first albums on repeat because it's all I had of theirs.

What's interesting to me, is that I can now have playlists for each of these artists, if I so choose. I can pick the best of the best songs and compile them into lists, and still only have scratched the surface.

I don't really know why this hit me so hard. I've just found myself very aware of my age lately, in both positive and not-so-positive ways, and it just struck me again.

This is what it feels like to get older.

One of my favourite things is listening to other people talk about music. What they like about it, why they like it, what speaks to them, how they hear things.

For that reason, I adore reading the Celebrity Playlists on iTunes. I generally don't care whose it is, though I do find myself drawn to the artists/actors that I actually enjoy. It's interesting, though, to see the musical tastes of people you don't necessarily connect to. When I see three or four songs on a playlist that are similar to my tastes, it makes me smile.

Music has such an honest way of bringing people together. There's no hidden agenda there, no ulterior motives.

So I started thinking, what would my playlist be, if I were a celebrity and asked to compile one?

I'm already trying to decide if it's better to choose the songs that I think best define my taste, or the ones that are simply my favourites.

It's going to take a little thought, and a lot of paring down, but I'm going to make one. I'll post it later, when I've had time to put some thought into it.