I didn't get to the tooth-grinding fist-clenching swaying-back-and-forth-chanting-'shut-up-s
For some reason, I've had this hardcore jones for 'comfort-food music'. What is comfort-food? Think back to when you were a really little kid, and you had a TERRIBLE day at school. Maybe Jimmy Thornson made you eat gravel; Maybe Rachel Fauss sat behind you and tugged on your shirt. Maybe Annette Caligari locked you up in a cabinet and pretended you were a somnambulist. Anyways, you tell mom about your terrible day, and she nods. And a bit later- just when you've sorta forgot that you had a terrible day- mom says 'suppertime'. Supper was almost always the same thing when you had a bad day. WHAT it was, precisely, would vary. But it was always the same. For me, it was Kraft mac and cheese, with a hotdog wrapped up in a slice of whole wheat bread. Maybe your folks took you to MacDonald's, or maybe your dad made tater tots for you. But it seems that food is something one associates readily with parents being sympathetic or trying to help out. And eating that food-intended-as-comfort later in life always brings the same sort of happy warm feeling.
Musical comfort-food, then, is music that reminds you of similar occasions in your childhood. For me, musical comfort-food was generally introduced in my world by babysitters, but I'm an only child; most younger children that I know get their musical comfort-food from their older sibs. So to me, for example, Bowie's rather distressing 'Bewlay Brothers' is musical comfort-food. Similarly with Zeppelin's album Houses of the Holy, which I had honestly forgotten ever liking, and now am listening to over and over and over again
HAVING SHELLED OUT TOO MUCH MONEY FOR
The Complete Led Zeppelin Box Set. 10 discs. all the albums.
So I've been wallowing in forgotten musical comfort-food today, and am not wanting to horribly maul the woman who wrote this document with, say, a RonCo (tm) garden weasel (of course). Because I am listening to a sound that makes me remember Alison Pedigo dancing around in the livingroom of my parent's house while I was wearing footie pyjamas.