What matters?
I like
having music around me when I go about my things at home. There is almost always something
playing in the background when I am at home. My favourite movies and TV
series are the ones with good music in them.
So, last
night, after returning from a long trip to far-far away, to almost as up north
one can travel in Norway, I put on some random music of my taste.
As I was in
the bathroom, I heard an old song playing in the living room. I recognized the
starting melodies and the opening chords. No way – I was thinking. Is it
possible that this song just randomly came up to my playlist? I sharpened my
ears again and again. Yes! That’s the one, no doubt about it.
As I exited
the bathroom, the song changed into something completely different - far from
the song I thought it was. Weird… But the song was calling me, and I quickly
found it.
It
instantly took me back to my careless youth when I was 18 years old and the
internet was just about to become interesting despite the slow screaming
dial-up connection. At that time music came mostly from MTV, Viva or VH1
TV-channels or took between 2 to 12 hours to download from Napster, which was
one of the first pirate file sharing environments at the time (later to be
closed down because of the copyright lawsuit by Metallica and others)
Was Zählt,
by Die Toten hosen represented everything I was back then. Young, rebellious,
emotional and adventurous young man experiencing the most fundamental feelings
in human history – the love in its all forms including rejection and madness.
With the
nice intro, where the drama that is yet to unroll itself is only to be
suspected and the rough voice spelling the words in raising agony to become
more and more desperate over the chace of the very Basic need in this life. The
endless struggle and heartache expressed by soon to become a scream from the
depths of the heart. All that completed by the one and only suitable language
for that particular outcry.
I found the
lyrics from which I vaguely remembered the chorus part (German is not my
language of preference otherwise due to very little practise) and played it
again. And as I was floating in total enjoyment and ecstasy while being 18
years old again, the back of my throat became heavy and I fought a tear while
realizing how well the tune, the lyrics and the setting had been tied into a
beautiful manly expression of the unremovable pain.
And I felt
happy, and grateful for what I am and what I have become and what I am going to
be. It felt good to be alive and to enjoy the ups and downs, the rises and
falls and the new beginnings of this life.
So, my dear readers.
Find that old song of yours. Listen to it, let it carry you away to who you
were and back to who you are today and to who you are about to become. Life
ends with your last breath, not a moment before.
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