From the Desk of The DBeazy One-Man-Think-Tank

*** Note from DBeazy. Regarding “Of Emerald Eyes and Happenstance.” the final 3 parts are almost complete. I’m currently doing a ton of editing and quite a few rewrites. Until then, I hope you enjoy the latest from the DBeazy One-Man-Think-Tank.

The restaurant was crowded, not yet to the waiting stage, but it certainly appeared to be filling fast, especially for a Tuesday night. Our party had arrived early, so we had been served and were to the point of deciding if “go boxes” would be necessary. We sat at the table, finishing drinks and enjoying conversation among friends. Wait staff rushed around checking on their tables and bus boys did their thing, all the while dodging a hostess with newly arriving diners following closely behind. Over the chatter and noise of the room, the first notes of a song could be heard.

I heard the early notes, an acoustic guitar line with an electric guitar riff. Over the noise, I tilted my head this way and that, attempting to find the best wave of vibration for which these old near deaf ears of mine could listen. I grabbed my phone, and tapped the Shazam app, hoping for a chance to identify the song. The app listens to a song that is being played and with surprising accuracy, it will name the artist and the title of almost any song. It isn’t infallible mind you, but if it can get a good “listen,” it can usually name the tune.

That particular day, the 22^nd of June, 2021 to be exact, (according to Shazam) I stood up at our table in the crowded restaurant, holding my phone in the air, trying to give the app a good angle to pick up the song. Shazam failed me twice, there was just too much peripheral noise in the room. I stopped one of the wait staff and inquired if he recognized the song. He did not, but promised to check with the bartender, stating, “He might know it.” I was running out of time. The song advanced and I really, really wanted to know that song. Finally, I spotted a speaker attached to the wall above a table of four customers. I got as close as I could, held the phone up towards the speaker, and almost immediately felt the device vibrate in my hand. “Bingo!” I had my song. Later that evening, I searched for “Yellow Eyes” by Rayland Baxter on YouTube and proceeded to play it no fewer than 20 times.

Another time, back in February of 1991, I heard a song played for the first time on a Hattiesburg, Mississippi radio station. I was driving home from work after dark, already depressed by the February weather, and further downtrodden by the recent discovery that a “romantic interest” of mine had cheated with her neighbor while I was away on a family trip.

The song came on and immediately I liked it. I liked it a lot. I arrived at my apartment, summoned friends, and five or six of us sat around until late into the night, listening to the radio and drinking beer. We took turns calling the radio station, requesting the new Dwight Yoakam song, “You’re The One.” Little by little, my friends began to give up and made their exits, leaving me and one diehard supporting friend to continue the mission of hearing the song a second time, each taking turns sitting by the stereo ready to press the “record” and the “play” buttons simultaneously to get a cassette copy of the song. I awoke the next morning on the floor in front of the stereo. The radio station didn’t play my request and as was the case in those days, it would be weeks before the song became popular enough to get more play time on the radio.

Some months after my Dad succumbed to Cancer, I borrowed his car. As I drove, I attempted to listen to the radio but failed due to poor reception. The stereo in my Dad’s old Mercury had a cassette player, so I switched the mode to cassette and was a little surprised that a cassette was already loaded. I heard the soulful voice of William Lee Golden, and the signature harmony of the rest of the Oak Ridge Boys. The song entitled “Still Holding On” played. I could not recall if I had heard the song before. That day, however, the song became one of my all-time favorites. The reason is that when the song was over, it immediately started again. I didn’t notice at first as I drove down the highway, I just thought it was one incredibly long song. The song ended and started again, then again, and again. Eventually, I realized that my father had recorded that one song back-to-back nine times. I choked back tears, realizing that the tune had so registered with my Dad that he wanted to listen to it over and over. “Still Holding On” is a song about a man getting older, realizing his mortality, mentioning the dreams of his youth, love that he had lost, and the realization of all men that as the end approaches, he may wonder why, but ultimately he must face the journey alone. I cried for the first time after losing my father that day as the song offered a glimpse of his mindset as he faced his final days and that as William Lee Golden sings in the song, he faced the end rigidly holding on to the man he was and to his beliefs.

I find it odd that music is so much a part of my life, given that I have so very little musical talent. But those who know me well can attest to this truth. There is nothing particular in the music that I love that sets this song apart from that. I like new songs, I like old songs, and I like songs from any genre. I like the music, I like the lyrics, and I like to try to learn what is on the minds of great writers of music in an attempt to understand the motivation of a certain song.

From childhood, I listened to the old 45-speed records that my family had purchased and I played them on an old box-type record player like they had in school. Then the 70s brought the 8-track tape and the 80s brought cassette stereos with a feature called “auto-reverse” which was a true innovation. The 90s brought compact discs and we discovered the “Napster” phenomenon, computer software that allowed people from all over the planet to share their music in a digital format over the internet, and suddenly, every song you ever wanted was available for free. This was absolutely illegal of course until the courts finally slowed down the theft. The new millennium came, bringing with it fully downloadable, affordable music in the form of MP3 and iTunes and by now, most everyone knows how it all works.

I was thinking about music, specifically, the impact of music during moments in my life. Moments like the three I mentioned, and there are so, so many more “slices” of my existence where an event or occurrence is tied to a song and vice versa. Often, a song ignites neurons in the brain, or whatever the correct physiological terminology applies, and suddenly, a movie reel begins to play in the mind’s eye. To my way of thinking, this is the closest man has come to experiencing time travel, because I don’t know about you, but I can hear a few notes and I’m often transmitted to another place in time.

Unfortunately, the time machine aspect that music provides is generally a “one-seater.” I can take the trip, I can relive the experiences, smell the smells, taste the tastes, and feel touches, even if only in my mind. Yes, one can share the experiences, but the best storytellers can only go so far and in the end, it is like viewing the slides from a relative’s vacation, it just falls short of being there.

Another aspect of the music time machine is that it only goes backward in time. These days we are able to visit the past through songs of old due to availability and modern technology. In an effort to sound less like an old FART, I’ll say that I enjoy finding new or new to me acts that produce good, quality musical output. The music of course is a fraction of the end result to me. To me, it is about the lyrics. The lyrics have to say more, spinning images that provoke thoughts that reach the listener on a deeper and more complex level. I remember reading an article years ago that stated and attempted to argue that all of the Country Music songs that could be written, had been written. That was it! A blanket statement claiming that there would essentially be “nothing new under the Sun,” as it pertains to the entire Country Music genre. Admittedly, being younger and still a little impressionable, I bought into the hypothesis, at least, for a minute. Thankfully though, I grew older and I built my own barroom with a good sound system, internet interfaces, and the ability to read the words as the performers delivered them. I have the ability at my fingertips to read lyrics and learn backstories, and yes, even with the declining ability to hear, I can fully engross myself in the music of new, and I am encouraged by a future in which the “BEST” songs are potentially yet to be written. Hell, maybe I’ll give songwriting a shot myself.

Oddly though, I’ve seen a trend in recent years where the old turntables and vinyl records are becoming popular again. I’ve seen the notion romanticized in TV series and such. For the record, no pun intended, I don’t buy it. There is no way that scratchy old vinyl records in any stretch of the imagination rendered a richer or better quality sound than what we listen to daily now almost a quarter of the way into the new millennium. I Googled the topic and found a great deal of argument for vinyl, honestly, more than I thought I would. I found many quotes proclaiming the “quality of the sound,” the “realness” of the experience, and the “warmness” of vinyl. I read about how listening to a cd is a “lonely experience” as opposed to that of listening to an LP as “enjoying the sublime state of solitude.” “Warmer” is an adjective often used to describe the sound of vinyl recordings.

Then I read about how it is suggested that one learn how to properly adjust “stylus rake angle to 92 degrees,” and something about the azimuth and zenith being correct, in order to provide an optimum “vinyl listening experience.”

Pardon me if you will, but I call BULLSHIT on that one! I don’t care if, according to Neil Young in a 2012 interview said that, “Steve Jobs, the “pioneer of digital music” who brought us the iPod, listened to vinyl records when he was at home …”

I realize that I’m guilty here of a certain amount of contradiction if I am to be held to some of my opinions about living in an age of “instant gratification.” I offer no apologies when it comes to my opinion of digital music. I so appreciate the ability to listen to almost any song by any artist at any time of the day or night. If I can summon a title or the name of an artist, with few exceptions, I can find it, play it, watch a video of it, save it, share it, compare different versions of it by different performers of it, and simultaneously view the lyrics of it, and can in most cases, attempt learn how to play it on a musical instrument. And, I can even extract a portion of a song and create a digital ringtone for my phone.

The truth is, the past is a nice place to visit, especially as a moment of introspection, or as a reference to past cause and effect as it relates to a similar present situation. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a stroll down memory lane to reflect on happy times or relive life-altering experiences. There is value there for sure. Just don’t camp there and put down roots. The human condition mandates forward motion to avoid being left behind.

I could go on and on about the benefits of the digital age as it pertains to music. If you prefer your music on vinyl, that is, of course, your prerogative.

Just know that in the year of our Lord, 2022, there exists a segment of the population who cannot fathom the depth of the meaning of the phrase, “You sound like a broken record.”

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