Written by Emily Tasker.
Photo by Uyển Trang Nguyễn (ivy).
You talk about music the way all girls want to be talked about- as if it has feelings but all it does is make you feel. I remember being on the phone with you at all hours of the morning, hearing records of all sorts playing in the background, the scratching and occasional jump, the quality was so different to anything else I’ve ever heard but it was also one of the purest things I’ve ever heard. I remember sitting on the phone, just listening to you talk about music I remember you saying “the music on the radio these days isn’t music it’s just noise” and from that day forth, I haven’t listened to any one song the same.
Spent my days with a woman unkind smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.
Made up my mind to make a new start going to California with an aching in my heart.
Someone told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
- going to California (the first song out of many that you told me to download).
Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Jack the fox, Jimmy Hendrix- four of the many artists I’ve now fallen in love with because of you, four artists that you talk about as if they’re your family- as if you know them or are from their era when in reality, you’re a 16 year old kid who wasn’t even alive when some of them were.
I remember the first time I was at your house; rocking up at like 7:30 in the morning, burnt from being out in the sun too long a few days before, waving goodbye to my dad and heading inside up to your room where we just lay and listen. Listening to whatever you put on and just getting lost in it; I’d never heard something quite like it before. A real record, playing only a meter away from me, spinning round and round, playing through, telling me stories about the music as it played- telling me all the reasons you love it so much, for the talent and the realness to it, how you hear actual instruments and raw voices. That, in this day and age, all you hear in music is algorithms and programmed beats. You appreciate music in ways I can’t even describe and I love it. You’re a wonder to this world, you skate and you wear button ups. You wear the same pair of shoes until they physically won’t stay on your feet anymore. You have a damn record collection of seven hundred and seventy and counting. You truly are a wonder to this world.
I remember suggesting playing ABBA and how much you retaliated against it, how you groaned and whined like a 3 year old- saying that you hated ABBA yet you have like 3-4 records from them. I remember getting so excited when you pulled them out, begging you to put one on and watching what you did to get it playing. I remember sitting in your chair right next to the sound and losing myself, being so content and happy that nothing could make me sad. I don’t know what changed in you but hey, I somehow got you to start enjoying ABBA and I really hope you never stop enjoying them.
Early hours of the morning, hazy vision, nearly empty soft drink bottle and the smell of smoke from the fire outside. Pink Floyd- wish you were here playing in the dimmed light of your room. Heads spinning and the occasional laugh rolling out of mouths and into the air. I was sick as all hell and wanted to sleep. We weren’t meant to sleep in the same bed but we were going to anyway. Sometime past 1am and people I had met only a few hours before were lying next to me without a care in the world as if they had known me for ages and there you were, wrapping your arms around me and pulling me into you. Pulling me in so tight I thought I would burst. Pulling me into your grip and so that I could bury my face in your neck and close my eyes and listen to the record play out and that is exactly what I did.
So I’ll see you later alligator and thankyou, for the sleepless nights, the adventures, the good times, the bad, thankyou, for the music and the doors it opened up to me.
Here’s to the memories made and the people we once were- to us.
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