Music is such a personal thing!

A sure sign that a person is not a psycho is if they are 'in touch' with their emotions. Ask my family, I'm more in touch with my emotions that anyone on the planet. Embarrassingly so! I cry in action movies! I cry at television commercials! I well-up at funerals of people I never knew. I am an emotional person!

I recognize that my entire life (my value systems, my view of the world), is intrinsically tied to the emotional experiences I had as a child, teenager and young adult.

If something grabs me emotionally it'll stay with me, become part of me, and will influence everything in my life from there on in.

Child of 6o's

I was born in the early 1960's! I am the second youngest sibling of four brothers. My oldest brother was born 7 years before me, my younger brother, 3 years after me.

We lived in simpler times. Electronics was in its infancy. Music was listened to almost exclusively via the radio (or as we called it, 'the wireless') or vinyl records (7-singles and LP's). In my family, my earliest memory of listening to music was on my father's very modern HMV Gramophone. This had no electrical parts. To listen to a record (which was probably an LP of brass band marching songs), we had to wind it up!

Lucky number 3

As the third of 4 boys, I was lucky, as too was my younger brother. My parents' experimentation in parenting was complete, and we two younger children were more-or-less left alone to grow up by ourselves. My two older siblings didn't have it so lucky. My parents had a much more hands-on approach to their up-bringing, and the two of them were therefore much more prone to rebellion and misbehavior. I both admired and feared my two older brothers, but I also thought of them as much older than me, and was in some awe of them.

I was still in primary school when my oldest brother left school and ventured forth into the unknowable world of adults. I vaguely remember his foray into that life, but most significantly, I remember the day he came home with his first ever stereo record player (paid for with his very own earnings). My goodness what a day that was. This device had an aura surrounding it that made it seem like a bewitched and magical artifact from an alien planet.

And when he had it set up and played a first LP on it, it nearly blew us away, both figuratively and literally. This record player had huge speakers, big boxes that stood nearly as tall as me. He, of course, had to play it at full volume.

Needless to say the novelty of big brass band marching tunes played at full volume very quickly wore off, and my brother set out on a life-time of collecting his own favorite music.

And I listened to every 7-single and LP he bought. I listened to them endlessly, particularly when he wasn't home. Eventually he bought a first pair of headphones, so now I could sneak into his room and listen to music without the other's in the house even knowing I was doing it.

And I listened! Any spare moment I had, I listened to my brother's personal choice in music.

Without realizing what was happening, I was developing a deep and personal emotional connection with music that was the personal choice of someone else.

This was the late 60's early 70's. I listened almost exclusively to the rock music of that time, not because I personally knew anything about it, but because my brother was in to it and he had the only record player and collection of records in the house!

If you are too young to know anything about that period, you can use your favorite search engine to look at bands of that era. If, like me, you grew up around that time, then I do not need to tell you the bands my brother would have been listening to.

However, I would like to point out that these days my preference in music could, if I let it, be a little embarrassing. You see, my brother loved Led Zeppelin, Moody Blues, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, the Beatles etc. But, he loved Neil Diamond as well, and of all the albums he bought, I think Neil Diamond's Hot August Night (1972) was the single most influential album in my young life.

To this day, if I hear a song from that album, my heart ratchets up a notch, and, as long as I'm alone, I find myself stomping along and singing at the top of my voice.

I know full well that it's not 'cool' anymore to admit to being a fan of that sort of music. But, you know something, I don't care! I am who I am, and I'm not going to pretend to be anything else.

I have an eclectic taste in music. I can listen to almost any music and derive great pleasure from it. However, when it comes to a true, deep and long-lasting emotional connection with music, nothing compares to the music of the 60's and 70's for me. And it's all down to my older brother!

Is that why I end up buying the same albums over and over again I wonder?

Thanks for reading.