Car wash, football, skateboards, booze, humidity, ex-girlfriends: A Julian Pearce Retrospective.

7 Oct

When I was a wee-one, my dad would play records on his stereo every Saturday morning. The Cure, The Cars, The Angels, Nirvana. Now, I distinctly remember thinking how weird it was for there to be a naked baby on the cover of a CD, or how cool the blonde-haired, scruffy-looking guy giving the finger to the camera was. I remember holding a cricket bat and pretending to play the guitar to In Between Days by the Cure. I remember having a broken foot and slipping over in my cast while jumping around to My Best Friend’s Girl by The Cars, or wondering what the person singing A Man Needs a Maid looked like. Every time I hear the opening strums of Wonderwall, it brings me back to a 40 degree day, out in the sun helping wash my dad’s car. All of these moments are unforgettable for me and every time I listen to these songs or artists, I’m taken back to that huge lounge room in the outer-Melbourne home in the suburb of Lara. The same goes for the rest of my life.

 

I did this to way too many people after seeing this picture.

 

What is it about music that provokes this sort of thinking in a person? No matter what way I think about it I just can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s the mystery…All I know is it’s fucking beautiful. It probably explains why I refuse to leave the house without my iPod, or why I deliberately miss buses at midnight, so I can walk home and listen to music. I’m positively obsessed, I’m addicted. Immersing myself in music is all I want to do, especially when I’m all out of answers.

 

I can put an age, time and place on when I was affected by listening to specific albums. Here’s a little chart. I like charts.

 

Nirvana Nevermind/Unplugged at MTV 5-6 years old in the passenger seat with my dad driving home from the football.

 

 

Green Day Nimrod 12 years old, attempting to skateboard on our drive way. Christmas Holidays 2001.

 

 

Jeff Buckley Grace15 years old living at home with my brothers, getting drunk, ditching school.

 

 

The Bronx White Drugs 17 years old, angry at something…probably the heat in Gladstone.

 

 

Weezer Pinkerton I got dumped 2 years ago, fucking sucked.

 

 

No matter what I do, as soon as the first notes of any of these albums start playing, I’m brought back, if only for a moment, to these days, these places, these memories.

 

I would say that I am one to romanticise things, it’s one of my greatest flaws and, perhaps, music helps me do this on a much grander scale. It’s almost like I use it as background themes for moments in my life. Bands I’m listening to at certain points of my life will be immortalised  like hand prints in cement, concrete in my mind as reminders of that time, whether I like it or not. It always amazes me how you can take timeless music and put into perspective just by remembering moments of your life. All of these songs that I’ll never forget seem to live on, with these memories pinned to them. Long live music.

 

What are some albums y’all love? What kind of memories do they bring back for you? Comments below.

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