The Playlist in My Head

I know most of you won't be in tune with my music choices. I listen to many different genres from Broadway to Old School 1970s Rock and Roll, Celtic to some Punk. I have some groups I won't listen to (don't even hint at putting a Pink Floyd song in my playlist unless there's no vocals. They do great instrumentals, but...I just can not abide the voices of the singers they choose. It also doesn't help that for ten years I had their music shoved down my throat by my then boyfriend.)

The thing is: Music sticks with me. I'm driven by it. I can't help but sing along with songs, even if they're only playing in my head...and they usually are.

I have playlists for everything and I don't always need that stereo. If it's Broadway, all you need to do is say one word that reminds me of a show and those songs are blasting, repeatedly, in that messed up mind of mine.

An example: there's a new musical out that was going to hit Broadway before Covid-19 stopped it flat. The show was a smash in England and I was really looking forward to it. The show is called "Six."

The problem with it is that there are no songs in the show that are not earworms. So not only do I get "Ex-Wives" blaring through my mind, but "All You Wanna Do" and "Don't Lose Ur Head" join in the mental fray. Oftentimes, all at once.

Try to picture having three songs blaring along in your head at the same time while you're trying to remember what you needed to buy from the grocery store.

And it's not just that fun musical starring the six wives of Henry VIII come back to life in order to form a pop music girl band, competing over whose life was the shittiest to see who should be the lead singer.

It's any show. And not just shows.

One time I was involved in a Halloween show where one of the songs being danced to was "Ramalama Bang Bang" by Roisin Murphy. I'd never heard it before and it's certainly not the type of song I'd normally listen to but...it's harder to get it out of your head once it's in there than "It's a Small World" from Disney.

What's worse is that I don't just hear the music. I move to it. I dance with it. Maybe that's a good thing since it makes me happy, but traditionally that song is done in a zombie-like manner. Picture me, an overweight 54 year old woman jerking in weird positions while pumping gas.

I get my fair share of odd stares.

There's some that I don't dance to. Some I sing to...and some that I can't help belting out the song in full voice. Mind you, I have an average to slightly better than average singing voice, but you'll not see me on a Broadway stage singing. Just not that good.

So when the song "Me and the Sky" from the musical "Come From Away" has entered my mental mix-tape, it doesn't matter if I'm walking my dog down the road and there are people around. I can be caught singing, "Suddenly, I'm in the cockpit. Suddenly everything's changed..."

And on the way home, they may be treated to me belting along with "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen when I try to sing all the parts. Poor neighbors.

Yet, there are times when I am down and depressed. These kinds of songs, upbeat and fun as they are, don't help at that point. They don't play well in my mind when I want to get my sadness out. Friends and family know that when I'm humming the theme from M.A.S.H. or "Veteran of the Psychic Wars" from Blue Oyster Cult, it's time to give me a hug and some chocolate.

Strangely, I'm comforted by the songs that express what's bothering me instead of "cheer me up" songs, with one exception. There's one song that is fun and funny yet always fits in that playlist. "Schadenfreude" from the musical "Avenue Q" can not be beaten when it's time to say "enough is enough" to the sad and welcome in the laughter.

I'm not very good at meditating or stilling my mind. Music with lyrics never seems to help when I need to toss anxiety away and relax, mostly because it sets me to thought. Music without lyrics always paints a story for me and I find myself thinking up the characters, the plot, and what they're doing instead of focusing on my breathing.

An example: Any Celtic instrumentals will send me to the forest with the brightest lights piercing through the treelines. My characters like to dance between the beams and see how far they can get without being hit by them. Some seek the babbling brook along the way, and others just seek out the Lord of the Dance. Of course, that song then starts and there goes all hope of meditating as I'm singing and dancing along to "Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he..."

It's a scary thing, my mind. But thanks to my mental playlist, I think I can manage.