randomness about music
our office is full seemingly quirky souls–smart, creative people who you’d think would have amazing taste in music. but, you truly don’t know your neighbors until you can peek into their itunes libraries.
thank you apple network.
now, when someone new comes on board - a freelancer, a new designer, a transient signal from a rogue computer - the newly arrived auditory fodder is mined and dissected. Who is “infidel?” - they listen to a lot of hard rock… That designer down the hall…he’s got nothing but swedish techno and nature podcasts. Interesting. The other writer? Apparently she’s a guided by voices freak. The freelancer at the end cube has the best taste in the building…but apparently (unlike most of the rest of us) actually buys her music. (and offers no passwords.) Then, there’s me. Tom Waits and Neko Case. Tiny label indie-rock peppered with fleetwood mac, miles davis, and an ungodly amount of blondie. (which i hardly even listen to recently). I wonder what they think of me?
Can one be judged by what might be found in their music library? Absolutely. I suppose we used to put it out on display in milk crates, under cement-block coffee tables. In those awful fake-wood tape cases. These days we just wear it like clothing - carry it with us. But sometimes, that analogy doesn’t fit.
The hard core-guy is pretty old navy. Guided by voices, bright colors and platform shoes. Only I probably slip comfortably into my playlist–beat up vintage jackets and black-rimmed glasses.
Makes me want to download the dixie chicks. Rock out to some AC/DC.
Just to throw off the balance.