Let’s talk about me for a minute…

I decided to put up a list of the music I have been listening to the most in the past couple of weeks, the songs that have dominated my waking hours and my Spotify playlists. Not my favourites as such, but what’s been tickling my ear drums this past week.

So I compiled a ‘playlist of playlists’ featuring these songs. Easy enough, it was always going to be a bit eclectic. However, I was accursed at birth with this excruciating ability to over-analyse absolutely anything. Particularly, when it comes to myself. What does this song say about me? I could almost barf at the self-indulgence of it all. But I’m swallowing that sick down and going to press on anyway. Coz that’s what self-indulgent, self-analytical people do… analyse their own ridiculous sense of self and then continue to be narcissistic.

The list includes Somalian rap, Dutch pop, existential fluff, Philadelphian soft rock (not cheese), country music (!), 80s synth, someone singing in another language that I think is Norweigan, women, men, women who look like men, men who sing like women, misery, despair, hyper-happy, gravelly voices, Tina Turner (she deserves her own category), power ballads, songs to daydream to, songs that make me sad/happy/downright glum/ashamed/energised, famous names and upcoming artists. There’s shallow and there’s deep. There’s songs that go well with a cup of tea and other that make me rant about issues. And did I mention Tina Turner?

As De Niro once said, ‘Analyze that’ (sic – he’s American). So I did.

And I discovered that, like my music taste, I am a little deranged. That like some kind of emotionally powered pendulum, I swing from extremes and fix the music to suit. Sometimes, I induce myself into sadness by listening to certain songs and then revel in the wretchedness of it all. And then I feel better and put some cheese on the computer (music, not slabs of Cheddar). My tolerance for happy songs is low. These rareties are saved for special events or general drunkness. And, inevitably, they descend into more melancholy moodsetters at time goes on.

So what does that say about me? I don’t care, I hear you cry. Well tough, I do. I’m self-involved like that.

It says I am a bit like you. A bit not like you. A bit like your mate and possibly even your mum/dad. My tastes, like most people’s, vary. And for this I am glad. Music is the lifeblood of living. It’s the soundtrack of an otherwise quiet and possibly lonely life. It’s my friend – one that I moan to, who always understands what mood I am in and how to alleviate it or simply reflect it.

If you’re still reading, congratulations. That was me having a moment.

But think about it – what do the songs you’ve been hammering this week say about you? Should you be worried? Should I?

Either way, have a think. My list sure does make my week seem more exciting than I remember it being! (Have a listen to my soundtrack here). Right, I’m off to over-analyse my choice of words in this blog. See ya.

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