I hadn't listened to music in months. Sure, I had heard noise from the car radio gargle through as transportation distraction and of course, I embraced the magnificently uncomfortable Yeezus and duh, I still hunted down NSFW YouTube music videos but my main gateway for listening to music, an Airplay speaker, had broken down way early in the year. Which means for a while there my life's soundtrack was comforting yet depressing silence. That's not a way to live.
But I don't obsess over music. I don't play music. I don't know the top 100 albums every human should listen to before they're born and then the thousand more you listen to while alive. I don't have that clairvoyant power to know what song is playing in a bar before Shazam does. I know my shortcomings when it comes to music and I've been willing to live with them.
But when I wised up and finally got that Airplay speaker fixed, I finally realized how much I missed what I thought I was okay without. And when I eventually stumbled back into last year's fantastic Beach House album, I cursed at myself for being satisfied with my idiocy.
I went to go see Beach House at some concert in Central Park last year. It was in the middle of a New York summer. It was uncomfortably hot in a way where wearing something as silly as a linen tank top and sea foam shorts wouldn't have helped. But then Beach House came on. And then the rain came down. And then lightning started etch a sketching the night. And then, as foolishly self important as this is about to sound, you felt as if the sky was sliding open and making you feel like there was no where else in the entire world you would rather be. Music, man.
It's quite obvious my brain is overselling a fond memory. But it's one of those experiential special New York moments that only makes sense to New Yorkers who voluntarily live through the city's punishment. It's affirmation of our conceited belief that the world truly revolves around us. It becomes one of the stubborn excuses you list as to why you can't ever leave New York. I know it's all these things—no more believable than fairy tales—but I can't help but close my eyes whenever Beach House comes on and see all those feelings again.
I want to know all music to be like that. I'm jealous of everyone who gets to experience music like that.