On the 33rd anniversary of Talking Head’s greatest, and most sentimentally wistful single, This Must Be The Place, I thought that we might celebrate the beauty of the song, Talking Heads, and music in general (a bit broad, I know).
I was lucky enough to grow up in a family whose taste in music was not limited to what was currently playing on the radio on the way to school. Of course, I’m not saying that radio music is bad music (Triple J will tell you that), but, as a child, I was more familiar with the Sex Pistols than the song topping the charts. When going into the later part of primary school and the early stages of high school, I changed my ways, and forced myself to endure the tenacious moaning of Ariana Grande, One Direction and other painfully boring artists. Societal pressures suck like that. I took me a while to stop being an idiot and slowly re-immersed myself with Punk, Post-Punk, New Wave, Alternative Rock, and Indie Rock. Silly as it seems; the trivialities of a superficial teenager, attempting to fit in with the hardcore people of the world, however, I truly to believe, each to their own, and I thoroughly enjoy The Sex Pistols as much as the guy next to me wearing a fuck the queen shirt.
This Must Be The Place is, by definition, a love song, however, for many people all over the world, it has more significance than your average mushy, loved up 3:25 minutes of mass produced shit. For me, I was going through a difficult time when I suddenly came across the beauty of This Must Be The Place. Again, the stupidity of an adolescent must be showing through, but it really made me feel like I had hit a low, and that was the place. I knew what it felt like, and I was able to struggle out of it, with a number of other variables contributing to my now confident and bright attitude (I’m sure that others would beg to differ).
And so began my re-familiarisation with music that doesn’t clog the radio. Suddenly the world I had left was as colourful as I remembered. The Smiths, Joy Division, The Cure, Blondie, Pixies, Arcade Fire, Oasis, The Cranberries, The Jam, The Kinks, Radiohead and more all became part of me again, and I am thankful for it. I honestly don’t care if you don’t agree with what I listen to; all I know is that I love it.
Music has become an emblem for the lost, the lonely, the sad, the happy, and everyone in between. My argument or message is not to devalue Pop music, or attempt to drive people away from what drives the music industry (without Top 40, music would essentially dead). Instead, it is to celebrate the beauty of the unknown. And of course, This Must Be The Place, fits into that vast category. Such songs, songs that take on such immense emotions, are difficult to come by. The Kink’s Waterloo Sunset, is another example of music that so greatly affects the listener, while carrying through a message that so carefully, yet generously tells the epic tale of the world, of love, or simply, of life.
In the words of Shakespeare, who of course, is known for his sweepingly delicate remarks and commentary on the trials of life, said something that vary much influenced my love of the remote, unheard and hidden.”To sleep; perchance to dream”. These words speak truths that many of us find too abstract to understand. And that is why I love my music. Because, above anything, music is something, that, really, none of us understand.