I had a lecture today about writing creative non fiction. It was very interesting; about memoirs and blogs and things, obviously relevant here. Anyway, the second half of the lecture was about music memoirs. There was an essay from a book they were talking about, which for the life of me I can’t remember the name, and whoever wrote it was writing about growing up in the 70s in Watford. They had written about how they had unfortunately missed out on some of the amazing music of that era because they hadn’t had a “musical household.” This made me start thinking about my household and childhood and the music that soundtracked my formative years.
It is safe to say that I have a VERY musical household. In pretty much every big moment of my life I know what song was playing, I know what concert I was going to. I’ve been very lucky with this. I’ve been to many a concert; my first being Ronan Keating when I was five – I fell asleep half way through. But my parents have always always instilled in us the importance of good music. On holidays we listened to Queen and Meatloaf and George Formby – the latter may not be the best example, but you get the gist. My family have done the same thing; I’ve been to so many gigs with my cousin and my auntie. They took me to my first Leeds Fest! Music is such a huge part of my life, my identity, sewn together with music my mum loves, and the music my brother always had blasting out of his room, and the rubbish on the radio my dad insisted on us listening to.
But I’ve learned in my 20 years that my family is a bit of an anomaly with this. One of my friends is 21 and has never been to a concert. I’ve been going to see live music for 15 years and she has never seen anyone live. It confuses me, it bothers me. How can you get through 21 years of your life without ever going to a concert. I know it’s going to be so cliché to say this and I kind of hate myself for doing so, but I honestly don’t know what my life would look like if I hadn’t had such a musical upbringing. Would I love the same music I do now? Would Mae by The Gaslight Anthem still be my favourite song? Would I need music on constantly because I dislike silence? It’s strange to think back on something like that because it has always been such a hug part of my life that I wonder if I could be the same person without it. I definitely wouldn’t be lying in bed in a Killers t-shirt while typing this if I hadn’t heard my brother playing Somebody Told Me and forced my mum to listen to it too. I wouldn’t have seen Green Day and the Foo Fighters. I wouldn’t have met Frank Turner and own a signed Libertines CD. It’s strange I suppose to think of something like that. Something that is always there in your life, a constant unlike any other, and imagine it being gone. It really does make me thankful for all of the wristbands on my arm and the tickets in my box at home. Some people have books that changed their lives; my life didn’t change, it grew around music.
What’s your favourite song and how old were you when you went to your first concert? If anyone can beat me I’ll be very impressed.
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