Dancing In Place

I recently unpacked my music collection following a move to a new home, and it occurred to me that the different formats of music delivery reflect eras in my life. I remember buying my first 45 rpm, "She Loves You" / "I'll Get You," by the Beatles, sometime in 1964. I recall my first record album, "The Beach Boy's Greatest Hits Vol. 2," a year or two later. I stayed with the album format until college, when cassettes provided both more compact storage and the opportunity to have two albums on one tape -- and to customize "mixes." CD's came around while I was a young parent, opening the door for mp3s, iPods, and the digital music delivery era.  Through the changes in music delivery formats, a few things remain constant.

One, a well written song is timeless and easily transcends changing formats. "Sgt. Pepper" sounds just as amazing in 2011 as it did in 1967.

Two, a great song can be reinterpreted by different artists. I prefer songs performed by their originators, but give me Harry Nilsson's version of "Without You" over the original by Badfinger any day of the week (not to mention Jimi Hendrix's take on Bob Dylan's "All Along The Watchtower").

• Nillson: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAX1rkdzUH4
• Hendrix: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bng3agUOYiI

Three, the music of our youth travels with us throughout our lives. With a few exceptions, it tends to be "the best music" of our lives, subjectively.

Four, it's a great pleasure hearing your children -- at any age -- singing some of your favorite songs.

I recently wrote a song to capture the times of my life: childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, parenthood, and finally grandparenthood -- my current condition.  It's called "Dancing In Place," written shortly after my first grandchild was born. Dance and music are my metaphor for living, changing, and experiencing time as we dance through it.

http://www.bandizmo.com/user/player.php?page=songs&member=2819&nr=1

Formats change, styles change, people change, and yet there's something constant, something lasting, in music.  Life needs a soundtrack, indeed; the one we make as well as the one we hear.