Come in, Memories, but Leave the Past Behind

I had a bit of a eureka moment while riding the subway home. (Isn't that when you get them, too?) I had the ol' iPod on, listening to ... what was I listening to? Doesn't really matter. What matters is that I was quite happy, reflecting on my recent re-immersion in music and its triggering of this gush of words in blog form. The creative synapses in my noggin are firing with rapidity once again. Of course, I couldn't leave it at that. I had to understand how I got here. And that's when it hit me.

I ran into a creative wall when I went to law school and came out to New York because I refused to grow. Before law school, I found comfort in the likes of New Order, Depeche Mode, Erasure, Cocteau Twins, the Smiths and Pale Saints -- the Linus blankets I grew up with. And for those of them who were still making music at the time, I'd fuss about how they didn't sound like they used to. Meanwhile, the natural progression of things led my compatriots into the vibrant world of indie rock as I stood idly by, whining like an old man to his grandchildren: "When I was young, we used to ..." this, that and the other.

I hated law school, and I complained about it incessantly. When I started working at a firm, I hated that as well and complained even more. Much of it was fueled by thoughts of the days of yore, when my main occupation consisted of critiquing all that was less than ideal. (Ever seen High Fidelity?) I was quite miserable, and that misery was of my own creation.

So what's the parallel here? Just as I failed to evolve with the changes in the music world, I failed to evolve with the changes in my life. But now, I've learned to accept my existence as it is and cease lamenting the loss of my existence as it was. And that's what made me smile on the subway.

British Sea Power. That's what I was listening to.