music in the night

today the baron is thinking about... well, really the baron is thinking about speculums, but she's trying to let that particular train of thought conclude. she'll take a moment and shake it off.

ahem. the baron is now thinking of r.e.m., specifically about how much she likes them, and about how some of their songs are deeply a part of her history.

for instance, she remembers "out of time" and the first time she saw the cassette of it, the day of her junior high graduation. it was a gift, given to the baron's friend jenny by jenny's parents and the baron recalls mild curiousity followed by keen understanding ("ah! that 'radio song'! this band sings it!"). the only other thing she remembers about that day is the dress she was wearing - black with large flowers (pinks and yellows and reds with green leaves) with a boat neck. since then, 'near wild heaven' has become one of her favorite songs, and if she can hear it on her way to the end of it all, she'd be just fine. (also, the baron has a long harbored a crush on mike mills.)

she remembers "automatic for the people", which she first discovered in high school, in the back of a friend's parent's car, on the way to swim practice. for her, it recalls those early morning summertime swim sessions, when they were into the pool and warmed up before the sun even broke the sky. the car, and the baron and her friend, smelled of chlorine and sunblock. those were the scents that hovered all season. jessica (the friend in whose parent's car they travelled) and the baron would sing along to 'nightswimming', thrilled about the melody and michael stipe's voice and the idea of swimming naked. (the baron would mention here that 'ignoreland' and 'man on the moon' are also good sing-along songs from this album.) "automatic for the people" also reminds the baron of her neighborhood in california, one of her favorite places in the whole world, a place where - even in july - light mist rolls through the streets and between the houses, and the odd coyote or two can appear under a streetlight just as the natural light is failing. for her, it's a near perfect album (the only draw back being 'everybody hurts', which makes her cringe EVERY TIME. the video makes her want to claw her eyes out.), evocative of all those good southern california things. was there ever a more beautiful song than 'find the river'?

she found "new adventures in hi-fi" in college maybe, or perhaps the first year of graduate school? for her, it's a fair album, notable for 'electrolite' (that jangly piano? those lyrics, those california-specific lyrics, are delicious.). wherever, whenever she came to this album is gone - those memories aren't banked in her head. 'be mine' is mostly what she remembers of this album now, and how the lyrics are trite and meaningful all at the same time. how it's a perfect and ironic love song, saved from sap by its edge.

in recent years, the baron has fallen away from r.e.m. - though she still would think of them fondly. the newer albums, particularly after "up", didn't much impress her, though the husband - an ardent r.e.m. fan himself - continued to buy them, from habit or loyalty. r.e.m. is currently touring in support of their new album, "accelerate"; the baron and the husband were gifted tickets to the band's maryland show. they played some old songs, they played some new songs, and the baron and the husband found themselves pleasantly surprised by the quality of it all. it turned out to be one more memory for her to add to the r.e.m. file, a good memory of that time they saw r.e.m. together.