“Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel. This is a delicate thing.” High Fidelity
Ever since I met my husband I have known him to be obsessed with music. He dabbles in all kinds of tunes, from the classic rock of Led Zeppelin to the 90s alternative of Pearl Jam and even throws in a little current pop music with Taylor Swift. To look through his CD case is to try to understand a complicated puzzle, because the man who loves The Beach Boys also has a Jurassic 5 CD.
I don’t always like all of Brandon’s musical choices (nor does he usually approve of my decision to listen to anything on a top 40 station) but he has certainly used his passion for music to create for us a musical history, a trail of CDs that document the first 10 years of our life together.
Even today, in the era of the iPod, Brandon still loves to make a “mix tape.” My own early compilations in the Napster days were a thoughtless collection of my favorite songs that lacked any sense of order or semblance. However, Brandon constructs thoughtful anthologies that are reflective of where we are in life at any given moment. The first CD he ever gave me was called Weird Love: Make-ups and Break-ups and was more about moving on from his high school girlfriend rather than meeting me. But Weird Love ended up having five volumes and they quickly became about me and our young love.
When we got married Brandon started a new series of CDs that he called the Brandon and Erin Story. For our anniversary he made volume three. When I was listening to it the other day I felt a deep love and appreciation for my husband who is so thoughtful and passionate. He appreciates music and he appreciates me. He found a way to dedicate more than 100 of the best love songs ever to me.
So if for some reason he ever tries to leave me and share his love of music with someone else, at least I know that I will have already tainted all the great music from 1950-2010 with his memories of me.