I was going to blog about my selection of favourite Glastonbury tracks but that will only confuse rather than inform you of my musical taste, if indeed the notion of musical tastes exists at all. For me, music (of all genres) act as triggers to help my (failing) memory recollect certain events that have happened in my life, but also to evoke a mood that allows me to relate to a situation that I’m not familiar with. For example, since the elimination of poverty and the G8 is fairly topical at the moment, I’ve purposely listened to The Cars number Drive, to remind myself of the painful images of those starving, pot-bellied children that we first saw in some horrific detail during the original Live Aid – and yes, the eyes still well-up and gooseflesh is evident throughout, but more importantly that piece of music opens a portal to my body that makes it possible for me to experience physical pain even when I’ve never been subjected to extreme hunger. I’m not sure I fully understand the psychosomatic reactions at play, but there is definitely a link between what we hear and our physical well-being – sort of anti-endorphins I guess. Perhaps that’s why I find myself unconsciously singing along to the Car’s song – if listening to it makes me sad and feel sick, then singing is said to release endorphins that act to neutralise the pain. Ummmm, any bio-chemists out there care to comment?
That brings me to the book I’m currently reading – The Food of Love by Anthony Capella which has nothing to do with music or Shakespeare I’ve only just started it but instinctively know I’m going to enjoy the rest since I’m passionate about food and an absolute sucker for sit-coms.
