On a high note.

Growing up stateside you are brought up with a particular set of musical tastes and depending on where you grew up, those tastes could range from country to rap, metal to bluegrass, rock to R&B, folk to blues… anything really.

In the Midwest where I grew up, my parents brought me up to appreciate rock and roll of the 50s and 60s as well as not-eveyone’s-cup-of-tea, country music. Inevitably my tastes changed as I grew up which involved me falling in love with artists out of the 60s, 70s and 80s. Having said all of that, I really do have a deep appreciation for all genres of music; I may not like or enjoy all of those genres, but it’s music nonetheless and it has always been a great source of inspiration to me. Not only that, a great source of many a happy memories in my life.

Queue The Big Move to England.

Back in the states I had a concrete set of radio stations that were programmed into my car and those radio stations spanned a number of the genres I listed above. Depending on my musical need at the time, I could tune into any one station and have my craving fulfilled with whatever artist was on at the time. I loved it. Music was a part of me and a part of my every day life; a constant I could count on whenever I needed it.

Here, in the UK, not so much. In nearly three years of life here, I’ve found maybe one station I could count on semi-regularly and even then, half of the time it’s playing stuff I’ve never heard of and am unable to connect to. To me, it’s strange and in the spirit of all-out honesty, it’s a tiny bit disappointing.

So what’s a girl to do? Well, other than moan about it on here, I rely heavily on my best friend back home to keep me updated on the new music that is coming out and then there is of course, Google Play. My playlist is eclectic to say the least and I am ever so thankful I drive a vehicle that allows me the joy of listening to said playlist whenever and wherever I choose. I do of course listen to the occasional CD but really that is so 1992…1995? What? I’m hip (even more so since I declared it).

At the end of the day, what I love most about music isn’t the availability of it or even the frequency to which I hear my favourite songs, for me it’s the memories attached to those songs that mean the most to me. If someone mentions a band I’m fond of or a song that reminds me of the good ol’ days, it’s in those moments that I feel truly grateful to have been able to share those experiences.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I believe the same to be true about music; one song or one concert can speak to a thousand great memories even if those memories happened a million years ago.

Queue the somewhat oldish photo of me and my bestest at one of the many concerts we attended, together.







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