Music Was – Music Is
Back then, Tracy and I were still kids. We both lived in South Carolina, grew up fairly close to one another, lived in similar small towns with similar families, but didn’t know one another. After we met in college, we would discover that all along we shared some sort of connection. It’s not that surprising, right? That connection was music, and how it reaches deep inside of your soul, grips you, refusing to let go until you acknowledge and respond in your own personal way. It drives the things you do and the way you think. It impacts how you interact with the world around you and is the catalyst for starting (and sometimes ceasing) conversations, connections and relationships. It’s omnipresent. Many people are familiar with this type of power in their life and, for some, it’s propelled by other things: art, sports, animals, nature, food, cars. For us it has been and always will be the inimitable force of music that shapes our view of the world.
For Tracy, it initially happened when he found a floppy, plastic record in the back of a magazine. Remember those? This was a record by a group that wasn’t in his parent’s or older sibling’s vinyl collection which usually consisted of Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Barbara Streisand and maybe some Jackson 5 or ABBA, the only celestial objects he had interacted with in his musical universe. He often recorded hours of music off the radio – some good, some more comical than inspiring. He would re-record his small selection of favorite songs from these recordings onto another cassette, skipping most of the songs and all of the commercials, fading in and out to avoid the dreaded voice-overs in an effort to create a “best of” mix for that day. There had to be more.
Careful not to damage his new vinyl insert, Tracy quickly and excitedly detached the record from the perforations inside of the rear cover of the magazine. He then read the label: The Cure – All Cats Are Grey. Who is The Cure? He placed the record on the family turntable, spent an inordinate amount of time adjusting the speed until the orange strobe indicator was set so that it was perfectly still, plugged in the curly cord of his father’s over-the-ear headphones and placed them on his head so as to isolate himself from all of the mundane sounds that had come before. Collapsing onto the floor of the family room, staring up at the ceiling, he decided it might be best to close his eyes before the song started. After a few seconds of darkness and that familiar vinyl crackle …
Absolute bliss and wonder. A new, completely different celestial object emerged from the inky void that was once there. Could it be that the world was no longer just vanilla? Then the thought occurred: there might even be more sounds, all new and exciting, out there just waiting to be discovered. Tracy later told me that on that day, he heard music in a new way – that he never knew that such sounds existed. Music had reached inside of him and demanded that he follow.
I’m guessing that at about the same time probably thirty miles away or so, I was in my bedroom scanning though my wall-mounted cassette rack, never having owned any vinyl or a turntable <insert “gasp!” from Tracy here>. Perhaps on that day, I selected Rio or Seven and the Ragged Tiger by Duran Duran, or quite possibly some of the same songs Tracy was laboriously over-dubbing on his cassette deck a half-hours’ drive to the east, jammed it into the open bay of my boombox and sauntered out to my favorite perch on the front porch of my rural brick home. It was my custom in those days to sit in my favorite green and white metal rocking chair and rock back and forth over the terracotta tiles to the beat of the songs ringing out as I held the boombox on my lap, aimed directly at my hungry ears. It was also my custom to sing along with Simon or whoever else the lead singer du jour was as loud as I deemed necessary without a care in the world. My grandfather, watching this curiosity from across the road, was always amused. My neighbor across the street would ask my brother, “What’s wrong with him?” The point was…
I didn’t care what people thought. The music had reached down inside and transported me to a world where it was just me and the sound. I left everything else behind until that tape ended. There were things I could relate to. Things I had never thought of and feelings that I would only understand years later.
Back then for Tracy and me, the music was a thing of wonder and pure enjoyment, a connection that we didn’t know that we shared. Is it any different now? Yes and no. Music is still, indeed, a thing of great enjoyment for us but now, Tracy and I have been longtime friends, and we are well aware of the connection of music that exists between us. It’s a language that we can both speak fluently to one another, each with our own unique dialect but still completely understanding the message and all of its complicated nuance and contexts. Most of the time, we are usually on the exact same wavelength when it comes to the overall idea of our mutual musical creations, but there are the times when there is what we call the tenuous push-pull of our creative process (more on that later). For now, suffice it to say, that we are always sincere in what we create, and we hope that those creations transport you the way the likes of The Cure and Duran Duran did for us back then … and still do today.
If you are interested to hear what those early calls of music led us to produce, click here to check out our most recent EP entitled Second Thoughts, and thanks so much for being a part of our musical journey!
Ron growing up with you, music in our lives has always been very important to us. From singing at Church to singing in the car. Music will always be part of who we are. I am writing this as I am about to sing and play the guitar to the residents in my assisted living facility in Chapin. I am very appreciative of you being my friend and your love of music. Reading and learning about your success keeps me playing guitar and always wanting to do more. Play on my brother!! Keep up the good work. Love Ya Brother!!
Tim, what can I say my friend? I think you summed it up, and you completely understand what we are getting at. You get it! Music is a force, it’s a gift, it’s a bond, it’s so many different things to so many people. I feel sorry for those who don’t feel it. But you always have, the same as me, same as Tracy. All of us, in different combinations, have sung and played together most of our lives. Driving to CHS before we’re even well awake, belting out Battleship Chains – LOL – good stuff! Thanks for visiting the site, reading, and commenting. Keep playing, keep the faith, you’re doing a good thing for those folks – love you too man!