By Digler, 30 November 2009
I imagine it’s the same in most small towns – if you are going somewhere you are driving. But I also think that fact is magnified in the place I grew up – a valley made up of a collection of tiny towns. Over 40 miles as the crow flies from north to south and 20 miles at its very widest with all of the kids from those small towns attending the same high school. If you’ve driven on I-15 from Utah into Idaho, you’ve seen that school, smack in the middle of that valley, in a cow pasture. What that geographical oddity means is that you learned to drive early, sometimes before you hit double digits in age, in your grandma’s boat of a car or an old farm truck. You drive miles to school, to practice, to athletic events and to see your best friends and girlfriend, who odds are each live in a different one of those small towns (mine did). Distances are measured in minutes, not miles and when you tell someone it’s a 15 minute drive to get somewhere it means you are covering more than 15 miles (not like the 15 minutes it takes to barely cover a mile in a place like Boston).
I literally put thousands of miles on cars driving around that valley. And music was an important part of each of those drives - sometimes to set the mood, sometimes to keep you company, sometimes just to keep you awake. Finding the perfect song and album to match your mood and the moment was always magical. I still can’t listen to Bob Seger’s Night Moves without getting nostalgic …and hoping to get lucky. And sometimes my wife and I listen to Neil Young’s Harvest Moon just to reminisce. There’s a particular stretch of I-15 between the towns where we grew up and I can literally see a harvest moon shining on that road and over that wide-open valley when we listen to that album. We fell in love with each other as we fell in love with that music. That feeling of finding the perfect music to fit the moment and the drive is one I rarely get anymore. But every once in awhile it does happen and when it does I can remember the moment perfectly.
In the summer of 2008 I had the opportunity to attend a conference in California. I flew to Idaho to visit family and then borrowed my mom’s car for the 12 hour drive to Anaheim. I drove to Mesquite, got up early and was on one of those stretches of road in Nevada that are completely forgettable except for the starkness of the terrain and the feeling of emptiness. I had already gone through the music I brought with me and turned on the radio. Radio West happened to be on, rebroadcasting a previous program on local Utah bands. What came through the speakers was a revelation. It was Band of Annuals singing songs from their album Let Me Live.
I literally put thousands of miles on cars driving around that valley. And music was an important part of each of those drives - sometimes to set the mood, sometimes to keep you company, sometimes just to keep you awake. Finding the perfect song and album to match your mood and the moment was always magical. I still can’t listen to Bob Seger’s Night Moves without getting nostalgic …and hoping to get lucky. And sometimes my wife and I listen to Neil Young’s Harvest Moon just to reminisce. There’s a particular stretch of I-15 between the towns where we grew up and I can literally see a harvest moon shining on that road and over that wide-open valley when we listen to that album. We fell in love with each other as we fell in love with that music. That feeling of finding the perfect music to fit the moment and the drive is one I rarely get anymore. But every once in awhile it does happen and when it does I can remember the moment perfectly.
In the summer of 2008 I had the opportunity to attend a conference in California. I flew to Idaho to visit family and then borrowed my mom’s car for the 12 hour drive to Anaheim. I drove to Mesquite, got up early and was on one of those stretches of road in Nevada that are completely forgettable except for the starkness of the terrain and the feeling of emptiness. I had already gone through the music I brought with me and turned on the radio. Radio West happened to be on, rebroadcasting a previous program on local Utah bands. What came through the speakers was a revelation. It was Band of Annuals singing songs from their album Let Me Live.
#18 Band of Annuals - Let Me Live (2007)
Yeah, when I was young, they said I was naive.
It was all a misunderstanding.
How life could be so demanding,
But I learned it well.
Yes, the ground would fall right from beneath my feet.
I'd pray to God for a decent landing,
Hope that I could come up standing
This time.
Yeah, but don't let me die tonight.
If I was a drinking man, it would be the kind of album to have a drink to, sitting on a bar stool - a little sad, a little proud but completely honest. So pour yourself a drink, either literally or figuratively, and sit down, listen to this album and prepare to become a fan.
Postscript: It’s usually me calling Mike from a great concert in Boston because, well, we just tend to be a frequent stop for lots of great bands. But Band of Annuals are based in Salt Lake City and Mike is going to see them this Friday at The State Room. I have to admit, I’m jealous but I can’t wait to hear about the concert because I’m sure they won’t disappoint.
Postscript: It’s usually me calling Mike from a great concert in Boston because, well, we just tend to be a frequent stop for lots of great bands. But Band of Annuals are based in Salt Lake City and Mike is going to see them this Friday at The State Room. I have to admit, I’m jealous but I can’t wait to hear about the concert because I’m sure they won’t disappoint.
Check out their myspace page and stream music
