Four years ago when I was in college I’d regularly play the radio while driving to and from campus, primarily listening to oldies (which had already shifted to mean ’70s and ’80s rock) or the local NPR affiliate. When I liked a song that had played, I’d make a note of the defining lyrics, a necessity as DJs seldom report track titles and my memory is rather poor. Note-taking was accomplished by creating a new SMS message on my phone, then saving it in the sent box — something I really doubt the programmers had intended, but it worked. Admittedly, working a T9 keyboard while trying to pay attention to the radio and the road is not an especially safe thing to do, but it worked out pretty well for my needs.
One of the notes-to-self that I made was for Phil Ayoub’s Schoolbus Window Paper Heart; I must have encountered it in a review by George Graham. Like all such notes, this ended up in a text file that collected the music I didn’t have but wanted. This file has gradually shrunk in the years since (as I’ve remembered to update it), but despite an occasional look, I was never able to track down a copy of Ayoub’s album. Over time I largely gave up hope, but a few months ago I suddenly found a copy. There was some difficulty in getting it, but today I finally played it, and —
Why was this album so compelling to the person I was? It could have been released ten years earlier and fit right in with all the boring alternative stuff that was popular at the time. The only track I’d care to hear again is the final track, ‘4th District Court of Bristol Country’, which has the kind of keyboard hook I’m such a sucker for (eg my love for Grandaddy’s The Sophtware Slump). I struggle to see what could have made me care enough to make it one of my notes.
Was I really such a different person that I found this sort of thing enjoyable? I know I’ve changed in the past four years, and my tastes have shifted a good deal, but it seems like a rather more severe change than I’d been aware of.
