About Me

When I contracted some of that uniquely first-world depression that’s been going around, I sought help in *gasp* therapy, a practice I’d long regarded as frivolous self-obsession; however, when I found myself unable to function, unable to enjoy anything about life, I could think of nowhere else to go. From these ongoing therapy sessions, I took away an important concept: I hadn’t been present in my own life for some time now. As I clawed myself up out of this pit, I found solace in a new collection. And true to my repressed inner hipster, I went retro and cutting edge and kitschy and blended them all up into a new obsession.

In the context of audio reproduction rumble refers to a low frequency sound from the bearings inside a turntable. This resonance is usually in the 10–30 Hz region, and will increase rumble as well as reducing tracking ability if not well-damped.

I consume music, movies and media of all varieties. I have a slice of unchecked compulsion in my blood, and therefore I collect. Much to the dismay of my wife (and eventually my daughters, I assume) I often seek shelter among this stuff, these collections — these books, movies, video games, and music.

When I contracted some of that uniquely first-world depression that’s been going around, I sought help in therapy, a practice I’d long regarded as frivolous self-obsession; however, when I found myself unable to function, unable to enjoy the things I loved, I could think of nowhere else to go. From these ongoing therapy sessions, I took away an important concept: I hadn’t been present in my own life for some time now. As I clawed myself up out of this pit, I found solace in nostalgia.

I returned to the turntable and the vinyl record. I returned for childhood nostalgia, for the albums I hadn’t heard in twenty years. I returned for the soundtracks of the 80’s, and the cover art and, most importantly, the tactile sense of being present in the moment and aware that life is going on all around me. Someone has got to flip the damn record. I returned because new artists are once again embracing the medium. I returned because visiting the record store and sifting through records became something I could do with my daughter. Even though she doesn’t yet understand the thrill of the hunt, sifting through stacks of tattered sleeves fishing for a curiosity… I’m proud to be the parent of my very own vinyl-loving daughters.

As I felt more myself, I returned to movies, my first love. Many of my earliest memories are trips to the movie theater. My first live action film? Romancing the Stone. As long as I can remember I’ve been a fan of movies of all varieties. It all began with some Universal Horror films — The Mummy, The Invisible Man, Dracula — and the Marx Brothers. Classic film is a passion. But so too are the films of the 1980’s, the trash and the neon spectacle. The soundtracks, my god the soundtracks.

This therapy begat the creation of this bl-g, a receptacle for my thoughts on movies, music and nostalgia through the occasional digital journal entry. Many words will be devoted to the things of my childhood — the movies and music I loved. Nostalgia is good… when curated and managed in the name of mental health. It doesn’t have to be a dirty word as long as we recognize that maybe, just maybe, our judgment has been clouded by time, tide and warm fuzzies.

In the name of all that, here’s a choice cut from a record I picked up on one of my first crate-digging trips. The Metropolis soundtrack re-scored by Giorgio Moroder and a few popular artists of the 1980’s.

“Love Kills” by Freddie Mercury (from Metropolis)