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home(sick) on the range

July 22, 2014

HorsetoothAfter three years in Minneapolis that mercury sound has relocated, yet again, this time to Fort Collins, Colorado. Hopefully this will be the last move for awhile/ever, but that’s a different story. We’ve been in the city now for about a week and are adjusting to our beautiful new surroundings. While I’ve been nothing but excited for this move I seem to have conveniently forgotten about the stage of this process that should be all too familiar to me by now – the limbo. It’s the phase where you’ve left what used to be home and arrived in your new home, technically, but it doesn’t feel at all like home yet, so in a cosmic sense you find yourself somewhat homeless. This feeling is compounded for me at the moment as we are in temporary housing until the end of the month, delaying nesting for another couple weeks.

However, I’ve been in this situation many times before and while I may have childbirth-style-amnesia’d the memory of being a stranger in a strange land, I do know where to find my personal remedy – my stereo.

I have vivid memories of my first couple nights in my college dorm room – laying in bed a jumble of emotions and hormones, physically crossing the narrow bridge from childhood to adulthood. My companion on those mentally tumultuous evenings was my CD player (it was 2003 y’all) and my arsenal of Bob Dylan albums. To borrow from his own words, Dylan’s voice was my shelter from the storm, my anchor in a sea of confusion and new experiences.

In the 11 years since (yeesh, really?) and through multiple nationwide moves, Dylan’s role as my voice of “home” hasn’t lessened any, but a few other jams have been added to this soundtrack of support. Like the version of “Althea” from Grateful Dead Go to Nassau that always feels like being wrapped up in a warm, spacey blanket. Or Tom Petty’s Bonnaroo performance of “Learning to Fly” which has not just Tom’s unmistakable voice going for it, but also some truly applicable lyrics.

1934667_596846173436_3480548_nI also feel incredibly lucky that I have the good fortune of being able to tune into the favorite voices of my literal home: my dad’s band The Beckerheads and my sister’s band Mount Joy. I’ve sung along with my dad and the ‘Heads since I can remember and their music is as familiar and comforting to me as my own backyard. Mount Joy’s incredible debut album (more coming on that) includes a track called “Canby” my sister wrote about our hometown that can bring tears to my eyes every time I hear it.

So, while the settling-in process can’t be sped up, and the feeling of displacement just has to just be ridden out, my sonic home can be tuned into anytime night or day. And that’s pretty fantastic.

 

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