Tag: Maturing

My Soundtrack Part IV: Recovering The Satellites

If the previous four years had been a musical desert, 1995 and 1996 would be a rainforest of new music. In no other period had I broadened the number of contemporary musical artists I would learn to love. It is undoubtedly the broadest expansion of new music in my life. I finally started to pay attention to the Gin Blossoms, as their sophomore record received the attention it deserved. Likewise, Collective Soul would release their sophomore album, packed full of hooky guitar riffs and an occasional kick in the ass not seen in their debut album. I appreciated the fact they had three guitar players, and the way they layered them in their songwriting still amazes me. Their hit December is great example of the guitar complexity.

I even softened towards some grunge bands. I could definitely appreciate the musical craftsmanship of Pearl Jam. Alice in Chains and Stone Temple Pilots put out some legitimately good rock songs. On the fringes of grunge were Lisa Loeb, Veruca Salt, and the Cranberries; powerful female voices who could command one’s imagination. But a new female superstar was about to be introduced to American audiences, from our frozen neighbors to the North. She was in a class all by herself.

And what I wouldn’t give to find a soul mate? Someone else to catch this drift. And what I wouldn’t give to meet a kindred?…

One hot day in the Summer of 1995, I was watching MTV in the cool confines of my climate-controlled home. Just as those in cold climates don’t leave their houses in the Winter, in Phoenix, we do not leave our houses from June through August. Unless, of course, you have a swimming pool. I didn’t have a pool, so I often would pull the shades on the windows to keep out as much of the blistering Sun as possible, and watch MTV in my well decorated cave. The first time I heard Alanis Morissette belt out the chorus to You Oughta Know, my jaw dropped. Her mezzo-soprano voice was at times whistful, while having the ability to knock you over with her powerful belt. Throw in excellent songwriting, and the ingredients for an iconic rock album were all there. Jagged Little Pill would help define 90s music.

A punk rock band out of Buffalo, New York would tweak their sound ever so slightly and produce the silliest named album of the year. A Boy Named Goo would earn the Goo Goo Dolls national acclaim, with their hit Name. But the album also featured legitimate rockers like Long Way Down, Naked, and Flat Top. They would go out on tour with Bush to support the album. The two bands offered a fresh new face to modern rock.

It would be easy to sum up 1995 with just the bands in the paragraphs above. That would be a serious disservice to bands like Better Than Ezra, Seven Mary Three, Everclear, and Spacehog as they debuted to a national audience. Gen-X was coming into adulthood and started staking out their spot in a world run by Baby Boomers. With that, came perhaps the most common underlying theme of the music we listened to: Angst. It provided the backbone for some pretty impressive songwriters, to remind the world that there was a price to be paid for the decadence of the 80s.

We could all wear ripped up clothes, and pretend that we’re Dead Hot Workshop…

1996 was not ready to let up on the gas. The national airwaves were finally exposed to a quirky, beloved band that those who followed the Tempe music scene knew well. The Refreshments released their major label debut, Fizzy Fuzzy Big & Buzzy in 1996. The Refreshments were the second Tempe band to receive significant national exposure, after the Gin Blossoms. To describe their sound is difficult; you really need to listen to it for yourself. Imagine a cerebral poet crafting some skater punk rock, filtering it through the dusty sand of the Sonoran Desert, and infusing it with a legit pop melody vibe. Throw in a kazoo and you have the essence of their unique sound. Their debut album remains one of my favorites, earning Desert Island consideration. Both The Refreshments and the Gin Blossoms enjoyed the wave of a fresh new sound, but they were just two of a some great bands that exemplified the Tempe music scene; specifically Dead Hot Workshop and The Pistoleros.

Other great bands also made their way to the mainstream 90s rock scene in 1996 and 1997. Tonic, The Wallflowers, Everclear, and Dishwalla were new and making a name for themselves with strong debut albums. Counting Crows released their second album, Recovering the Satellites, a solid follow-up to August and Everything After. They were one of many bands who had produced follow-ups to their successful first albums. The era of what would be categorized 90s Alt-Rock was at its peak, with more great music to come. One new band out of Florida would define 1997 for me.

She grabs her magazines, she packs her things and she goes…

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I have a tendency to deep dive into things that I have a profound interest in. It is a characteristic of my INFJ personality type.. After seeing the video for their first single Long Day playing in a Blockbuster Video store, I didn’t hold out much hope for Matchbox 20. While the song was catchy with a bit of an edge, the music video didn’t quite capture my attention. Apparently, it didn’t capture the attention of many people. Their debut album, Yourself or Someone Like You, wasn’t selling and they were playing to nearly empty clubs. It was over six months after the album’s release before their second single, Push, would start to get some significant radio air play. I first heard the song on the radio while driving from Phoenix to Tucson. I immediately loved it, rare for me the first time that I hear a song. The next day, I bought the CD. I lived in those songs for the next two years. So did over 10 million other Americans, as the album achieved the exclusive Diamond status. I dove deep, analyzing the lyrics of each song, over and over again. When I had the opportunity to meet their lead singer and principle songwriter Rob Thomas in 2011, my first words to him were, “I hope I don’t faint.” While my tongue was firmly planted in my cheek, we had a good laugh and he pulled me in for big hug.

Matchbox 20 didn’t have a monopoly on Gen-X angst, but I personally connected with their songwriting more than any artist before. These guys were my age. They were singing about the challenges and disillusionment many in our generation were experiencing. We were all out in the real world now, trying to figure life out. We were starting relationships and doing what we thought people do in relationships, only to find out we were so wrong about so much. Everything we were thinking and feeling was tied up into a 46 minute and 43 second package of Gen-X melodies, warts and all.

As the 90s came to an end, so would the sound that dominated the Alt Rock scene. Collective Soul gave us their third studio album, which was just as infectious as their breakout second record. Dishwalla, Better than Ezra, and Seven Mary Three recorded some great second albums. A few other new bands also found their way into my CD collection. Eve 6, The Flys, and Harvey Danger were all noteworthy additions. But the musical landscape was about to change again, as the 90s came to an end. Many of the bands here would continue making music into the next century. Counting Crows and Matchbox 20 would see continued commercial success. One of the keys to their continued success was that their songwriting continued to mature along with their audience. In the years to come, records full of angst would give way to stories of acceptance and enlightenment. Both bands continue to show a reflection of a generation, albeit with a tad more gray hair visible.

As I dash my ship upon your shore, a mad-drunk and reckless troubadour…

The upcoming years would see my musical tastes broaden and mellow. I would experience my last dalliance with new, hard rock music. As the bands that dominated the Tempe music scene broke up, a new Arizona super group would rise from their ashes to establish a near cult like following. I would never again saturate my musical mind with new artists like I had in the 90s. A new century awaited, with new priorities.

Next up: My Soundtrack Part V – Green and Dumb

Who Are Your Others? – The Influential People in Our Lives

Do you have a person or people in your life that you draw inspiration from? Ones that leave their fingerprint on your very existence? I bet you do, even if you haven’t put a lot of thought into it. The obvious starting point for most of you would be your parents. I know my parents, besides contributing to the totality of my DNA and physiological dispositions, were the people who inspired me the most. But what about the others?

While there have been many in my life who have influenced the man I choose to be today, there are a few that hold a special place in the halls of the Museum of Rob. One such man was my Uncle Jim. The eldest of my mother’s siblings, it seemed like there was nothing Jim wasn’t able to do…and do it well at that. I know that no man is perfect, but as a child, I sure believed that he was (along with my father).

He had an incredible breadth of knowledge about the world. This was undoubtedly a result of his innate curiosity and dedication to being a life long learner. A Korean War veteran, a police officer, a world traveler, an accountant, a master cabinet maker, a writer…he could find common ground and carry on a respectable conversation with just about anyone he ever met. He was funny, interesting and he was a masterful storyteller. There are few people that I’ve met that I would describe as wise. He was wise.

My Uncle Jim continues to be an influence in my personal curation (except that you don’t want me doing your taxes or being anywhere near a circular saw), though he’s been gone for many years. I don’t believe I ever told him how much I looked up to him. I regret that today. If only I possessed the wisdom to know that I should have while I could still have a conversation with him.

I have a takeaway for you. Who are your others and if they’re still alive, have you told them how important they have been in your life? I encourage you to leave a comment about your others and challenge you to make sure they understand the influence they’ve had on you!

Who Is In Charge Here? – The Concept Behind The Curated Man

Merriam-Webster defines curator as “one who has the care and superintendence of something.”  Often, a curator is the title of one who oversees a collection, such as in a museum.  Many would argue that I belong in a museum; my body being the chief accuser. But, how does this contextually apply to this blog, The Curated Man?  Well, there has been one constant in my evolution as a human, a man.  There is one person who is ultimately responsible for the care and superintendence of me: me.

I chose the tile The Curated Man because…well, I’m a man.  The principle theory, of course, applies to all people, not just to men.  But, I am a man and my writing is filtered through a male lens.  I have no practical experience in being a woman and would never pretend to know what that experience is like; though I do try to think about the lenses others view life through.  Hence, The Curated Man was born.

I didn’t start life with the approach that I was curating myself.  In my teens, I struggled to focus on much past playing baseball, being in what could be loosely defined as a rock band and pretending to be cooler than I actually was.  In my twenties, I thought I had everything figured out, so why bother thinking of such profound concepts.  In my thirties, I realized I was wrong about nearly everything in my twenties and entered a brief period of self-pity and anger.  It wasn’t until I began my relationship with Shani and embarking on the parenting adventure, that I thought seriously about the concept of being the curator of myself and everything that it entails.

It would be too easy to say that meeting Shani caused a sudden and stark change in my acceptance of the gravity of the role I needed to play in my continued maturity.  It would be equally naive to say that the moment came when I became a father.  There are certainly correlations, but the connection to causation is sketchy.  No Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc arguments here. It was a process, one which I am still refining today.  Along the way, I’ve learned some simple yet sobering truths.  It has been equal parts pain and joy.  Most of all, it’s a journey which has just begun.

As I continue on this never-ending work, I invite you to join me.  Some days the words may be explorative and contemplative.  Other days may be light and riddled with humor and musings.  Maybe you’re on a similar journey.  Maybe you know someone else that is. Maybe you will share what you’ve learned through our own personal curation.  Maybe…just maybe, we’ll all get something out of the dialogue.  If you haven’t already, officially follow the blog.  If something resonates…hit like, share and tell me more about it.