I found my tapes, the ones from my highshcool years. The many, many tapes of music that I mixed. My favorite songs from my youth. The crazy eclectic mix of thoughts, and dreams put to music that formed the body of my life. Music from an era when music seemed to mean something. Music that was something to be worshiped and not just something to be danced to.

I layed on my stomach with my head hanging over my bed, staring at the floor, listing to the million Nirvana song change into the millionth erasure song. Interspersed by the cranberries, and Barenaked ladies when they were good. I searched my soul for that place I dream of. That time when I felt the least comfortable, but not long for. I long for the safe warmness of what I had. The days I would cozy into my chair in music class, with a cold trumpet in my hand adn at the wave of Mr. Pauls hand, beautiful music would surround me. Music that I helped create. I miss the old fashion character of the building. Not the over the top cleanliness of the hotel I work in. I miss the energy of people that assume they’ll live great lives. I miss the angst, the rebellion, the hatred of society that brought us together. The naiivity, I miss most.

I stare at the floor in a semi trance watching the carpet start to move up and down with my breaths. My cat stares at me, wondering why I’m not sleeping. I should be sleeping. I’m always sleeping at this time. She gets bored and leaves to play with a plastic bag.

I feel myself fall into a micro depression. Not a real depression, but the kind of depression that grunge music was supposed to evoke. The angst we all felt. I remember crying to my mother at age 17 bawling because I was so afraid of life, and how I was going to support myself in this oncoming financial depression. The most volurable moment in my life I suppose. Now in Calgary, a job is just something you go get if you feel like having one this week.

How things change. I sit in bars asking people whatever happing to the dark, longing, disturbing, thoughtful music we used to hear. Everything is so happy now. Music has stopped becoming a reflection of society. Something, I don’t think, that has ever happened before. I’ve taken enough music classes to know that. Beethoven’s music showed the beauty and power of post revolution Europe. Sixties music reflected the tearing apart of societies belief structures. Grunge reflected youths hatred of what society had become. Have you ever listened to the backstreet boys, or Brittaney Spears, and wondered what they’re love ballads have to do with todays society.

Then again, they are a reflection aren’t they. We don’t have anything to grasp onto. Life isn’t fabulous, life isn’t horrible. We’re just in a stage of living. Nothing more, nothing less. There’s nothing to fight for, or defend. We search for a belief, we cling to old battles. We’re numb. Its calm. Its postmodern. We’re finaly there. Everything is important, and worthless at once. Everything is religion. Anything is faith. So, lets sing about nothing as though it were important, and dance to it like we expect the rain to come.