Entering college, I had a high-speed Internet connection for the first time in my life. I took the opportunity to explore some music of which I was vaguely aware, but had never given a proper chance. I started downloading music by Tiger Trap, Heavenly, Dressy Bessy, and so on. I also began to listen to the song “Throw Aggi From the Bridge” by Black Tambourine constantly. Finding this music was incredible. It was so much more to me than the punk bands that soundtracked high school. This music energized me, blew my mind. The lyrics could be campy, fun, and irreverent but also deep, philosophical, and sometimes dark. But, no matter what, the music always had enthusiasm; a sort of unfuckwithable compulsion to play whatever song they were playing and move on to the next to have as much fun as possible in dozens of different ways and contexts as possible.
It was such a different kind of feeling finding these bands. Listening to Black Tambourine, Tiger Trap, and Small Factory was like a full-body elation. I felt a connection with these bands I never really had with regular punk rock. It was like listening to pure, unmitigated enthusiasm. Possibly the most important lesson I learned after finding this music was the way in which I had been expecting my identity to conform to the identity I wanted to get from old records and the characters that produced them. What I really needed was music that fit with who I am. The experience of synchronicity between the organic, sincere identity I possessed whether I liked it or not with music that seemed to me to come out of nowhere was almost overwhelming.
This was much more freeing for me than punk rock had ever been. I could feel the difference very quickly in how I was writing music. Now I can write almost whenever I want about whatever topic I want. While I'm still constantly finding new bands and writers to be objects of my jealousy, like Rocketship or the Fizzbombs, I'm also considerably more comfortable in my own skin as far as my writerly ambitions go.
But even more than that, the short-sighted perception of my music collection somehow providing the form and structure of my very being left me constantly trying to match what I thought I wanted to be, and made it more difficult for me to mature and grow up like a normal person. Finding music to complement who I am as opposed to music to use as some sort of scripture for how I should be allowed me to focus on other things. College was a lot of catching up, maturity-wise (although I don't think that's unusual for anyone).
What a fantastic soundtrack, though.