I Got My Arrow

"You can choose to say, good morning God or good God morning," Gift of Gab "First in Flight"

It's tough living in between two places, never really feeling like you're settled. Right now, and probably in some capacity for at least the next year I will be living in two places, mostly in the figurative sense but occasionaly in the literal. I cannot complain, it's the best arrangement for now. I was going through some of my stuff in place number 2 putting some of my music onto my ipod and going through my cds when I stumbled upon a brown cd with a yellow stripe going horizontally through the center, on the right side there was a bowman, with a long bow in one hand, a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder, listening to some headphones... I haven't listened to Blazing Arrow in a long time, it'd probably been a few years, but I can remember how refeshing it was when I did. To my surprise, I hadn't even put it on my ipod although I do have mounds of music that has meant much less to me.

As a hip-hop album, it is damn near perfect. Chief Xcel effort was herculean- the beats are absolutely eclectic, at times spacy with synthesized distorted guitars, running basslines, well-placed soul samples, just a sonic masterpiece with a few tracks that I'm still in awe of. Gift of Gab is a multi-syllabic monster, his rapid fire flow is impressive in and of itself but he is even moreso when he slows down during the main part and speeds up rapidly before cresting at the chorus. My favorite track, First in Flight, features an amazing Gil Scott-Heron; words like majestic or regal spring the mind and he's only singing the chorus- he's no doubt helped by Chief Xcel's great use of the echo effect, but he really steals the show. As somebody from Pitchfork put it, he not only sounds great, he sounds better than he did when he actually was that great. Just an absolute stunner, and there was little wonder that it became one of my all-time favorite albums and really so much more.

I moved to Nashville a few months before my 16th birthday and I could not have been sadder. My life in Milwaukee, while not perfect, was as close as it ever had been. I was on track to be the valedictorian of my class, I was playing varsity baseball, I was on a championship caliber debate team, I had plenty of friends, and I'd finally found a place that I truly thought that I could call home. On the family front, all of us had our own lives, I got along better with my father than I ever had, my mother was happy and working, my sister was going to Marquette in the fall, and even though me and my brother fought alot, most of the time we had so much fun together. When we moved, at first, I tried to make the best of it. I tried going out, looked for the artsy/nerdy/music scene that didn't involve new country music. I tried to meet people with no car, no drivers license- basically I gave Nashville a chance... and it failed miserably, or maybe I did. Either way, there was a special feeling to that summer, one of bitter defeats, a feeling I get waking up to a hot sun-drenched room knowing I have to get up and face another day when I really don't feel like battling. A feeling I get on endless nights when everytime I wake up only a few hours had passed.

Blazing Arrow became my soundtrack for those feelings. The overlying message I got from the album was one of a sense of hope and purpose on a journey through the doldrums, being able to not so much control your own fate but to control your reaction, to choose your response to the outcome. I've always loved the motif of the "long hot summer" and nothing better describes my experiences during the summer of 2002, those were my doldrums so to speak. Antioch might as well been a desert wilderness, no sidewalks, a long hike up the hill just to get to the store. I remember being abandoned at the bus stop for two hours because southern cities hate things like public transportation (as well as anything like city infrastructure or even a semblance of planning). Mostly, though I remember the anxiety of waiting, waiting to see if the place I was forced to accept was better than the place I was forced to abandon. I'd really thought I was done with moving, thought I was done with start over at least during that phase of my life. My anxiety was tempered somewhat by that aformentioned message, and even when things became worse than I imagined they would be, and they really did, I tried to hold on to that hope.

It's a cliche to say that the music we listen to ultimately becomes a soundtrack for our nostalgic thoughts, but it's also true. There is a difference, however, in the ways that music interacts with those thoughts. There are songs that are in general nostalgic, songs that are shared by the general population, songs that were number 1 when you were in high school. Those songs can certainly be personal and they bring back a flood of memories, and they characterize a time, a place, a certain style of dress. No ones memories surrounding those songs are alike, but there is a palpable excitement for the collective when that song comes on the radio or at a party, it becomes a part of the shared consciousness about the so-called best years of our lives. Unfortunately a lot of the music I listened to during that crucial age was of the other variety, music that is extremely personal, music that I did not and really could not share with anyone else (except for my brother). I knew that there were other people who listened to the music that I did, most of it I discovered for myself by browsing websites, but for the life of me I could never find them in person. Well, at least I couldn't before... I got friends now who enjoy the type of music I listen to, maybe it's one of those things, like you only find things once you stop looking.