As I said, almost nothing beats that feeling. What beats it, then? Rediscovering one of those albums. You're looking through your albums, and something jumps out at you. And you think, "I remember how much I loved that album when I bought it." Something compels you to pull it of off the shelf, put it in, and press play. That comfortable feeling comes back, and it feels great. It's something that you really can't describe; it may be something that you don't want to share with anyone else for fear of what they might think. And for that time, you're on top of your world. You know the words, you hum the music, and you feel like you're in another time--and you are.
Only one thing is certain: your love affair with your rediscovery will come to an end. You may listen to it once and be finished; you may listen to it for weeks or months, even. It will end, though. That album will go back on the shelf only to see the light of day again on the accident of a re-rediscovery.
So, there must be something that has caused me to write about rediscovery, right?
Absolutely. Scrolling through the music on my hard drive, I ran across Chris Cornell's Euphoria Morning. I remember the anticipation I felt for the release of this album. When Soundgarden called it quits, I was afraid I'd never hear anything else from this guy again. (This was, of course, long before Audioslave.) I was there the day Euphoria Morning hit the shelves. I remember hearing "Can't Change Me." It was great. Tonight I listened to the whole album in its entirety. I think it was good for me. I felt comfortable. I felt younger. I felt safe. Even with all of these feelings, the love affair is already over.Advice: Rediscover forgotten tunes.
