A swelling of pitch and volume

People occasionally end up in conversations revolving around a mythical soundtrack of their lives. This concept was made less unrealistic by the advent of discmans and currently by the profusion of ipods, although this still remains a personal and private soundtrack, not a swelling background that infiltrates the entire scene as we find in films and television. But I wonder about the preferences we reveal through our choices, as well as the adaptability of the human opinion. The Cobb coffee shop is the perfect example of this for me - every time I go in they are playing something different, and every time I find the selection perfectly ideal for the situation. Clearly since my experience, purpose, and context are very similar, vastly different musical selections should not be able to coexist peacefully in my image of the location and yet this occurs without question. Why? Surely they cannot intentionally suit my mood. Rather I suppose it is a manifestation of my internal flexibility in this regard. Some have it to a greater extent than others, I suppose.

The question of musical choice is a tricky one. It is often viewed as a facet of one's personality and possibly indicative of character. There is an instant connection between two human who suddenly discover a similar favorite band or concert experience or even radio station. A link between unknowns. I have always found myself drawn to chord progressions and baselines more than lyrics or specific melodies (beyond their interaction with harmonies) which has led me to enjoy various forms of just about every musical genre. I don't think this makes me some kind of musical everyman, but rather a pleasure-seeking dilettante. My favorite genre for many years was proclaimed as Classical and while this may even still be the truth, the sad fact is that I hardly listen to anything anymore and probably cannot lay real claim to any area. I find this an odd pickle to be in on car trips in which my opinion ought to have weight - people are constantly befuddled by the lack of preference in the vehicle for a specific station. I know I am not alone in my indifference, or rather my admission that to find one station consistently acceptable is virtually impossible. Even serious fans of certain types don't like every song that exists in that manner. How difficult it is to keep the controller informed of every preference constantly, especially when another, better, option may not currently exist? So we give up, say "anything's fine" and ignore the bits we want to tune out. Really it should just be the driver's choice especially on long trips if there is contention or true apathy.

I'm not sure why this topic comes to mind tonight as I write. Perhaps it is due to weeks of car-riding and tonight's foray into Coldplay as my Greek homework soundtrack since I rarely listen to anything at all while I study. Perhaps because my first real connection to Ethan was forged in the strains of Radiohead and the off-pitch plink of piano keys. I am forced to evaluate our relationship, present and future, constantly as I pass through these days in anticipation of our future and so I can complete my officiant's homework diligently before our next meeting. So many things come back to a note, an image, a progression. I cannot say what our soundtrack would be - I feel almost hubristic trying to imagine an all-encompassing plate of songs to define or at least heighten the feeling in our lives. Is it even necessary? And yet so many parts of life are filled with actual music that would seem to be lacking without it. We must fill the void of silence.