My smile will mislead you

Long hiatus, eh? I'm not going to promise you I'll update more, since I've promised you many times before, and have yet to do so.

As of late, instead of discovering new tunes and acts, I've been re-discovering some old favourites: Third Eye Blind, New Found Glory, Incubus, Nirvana, etc. Third Eye Blind has definitely hit me hard, their self-titled album is pure pop-rock brilliance in a 90 minute package. Seriously. Though the sound can be pinned to the 90's alt-rock movement, the lyrics lose none of their intelligence and potency.

Released in 1997 with killer singles like "Jumper," "Semi-Charmed Kind Of Life," and "Narcolepsy," that album followed me throughout my formative years: 7th to 12th grade. Yes, I was a mega Backstreet Boys fan, but Stephen Jenkins was that older, jaded college boy who played guitar--and how is that not attractive to a thirteen year old who grew up with two older brothers who idolized Kurt Cobain? Yes, while Jenkins has never been, nor will he ever be Kurt Cobain, you can see the connection my hormone-addled brain made. And come on, at thirteen, any guy with a guitar is hot by default, it's written down somewhere, I know it is.

Anyways, that album at twelve and thirteen didn't mean as much to me as it does now and when I was sixteen and seventeen. Re-discovering an album can be magic in what you take away from it after listening to it again. Lyrics take on a whole new meaning as your world gets bigger, and the trove of your experiences deepens. Lyrics that went above your comprehension level suddenly become prophetic if only because they've grown more relatable.

And in the current music climate, I'm afraid the magic of rediscovery is slipping. No one buys albums anymore, with iTunes selling songs separately, people download what they know and that's it. Albums are meant to be journeys, not hot spot vacations.


Ignore the fact that it says "Eric Valentine" as the artist, it's a lie.