The development of my musical taste.

Thrice weekly blog post 7 of 15.

If you know me, you know I like music.


A lot of it came from my mother, I think. She listens to good stuff. I grew up with oldies rocking on the radio whenever we drove. She'd always change the station when "House of the Rising Sun" came on, though. 

Also, my stepdad. Well, former stepdad. Van is a stellar guitar player. In his youth he recorded some stuff, and he continues to play to this day. I was "forced" to go to bluegrass barns with him and Mom - out in Alabama and Georgia - where he and Mom would perform. I didn't really enjoy it at the time, but looking back, it was actually pretty cool.


My brothers had a pretty big influence, as well. Mostly Russell, my oldest brother. Because of him, I listen to They Might Be Giants to this day. He also took me to my first legit concert, sparking a love for the live that burns on. Oh, and I'll always remember another brother, Tadd, conveniently coughing over the bad words in Sublime songs. 


I spent middle school in the slum of trendy pop music. But didn't we all?

High school and college brought with them good friends and with them, good music. I owe a lot to those kids: Relient K, Death Cab for Cutie, The Postal Service, The Format, etc., etc., etc.

And I'm continuing to discover. Pandora's a great tool. I love last.fm. Grooveshark holds my very heart in its toothsome grip. 


I love it, guys. I can't live without it. Give me music, or give me death.