Playlist of a Heartbreaker

Why Georgia

August 21, 2013

5:36 PM

Mood: Mixed

Energy: Low

Song: "Why Georgia" by John Mayer

Intriguing fact: John Mayer began his career as an acoustic rock artist, but later began transitioning to blues in 2005. He was inspired by collaborating with experienced blues artists such as B. B. King, Buddy Guy, and Eric Clapton. I wish he stayed acoustic. I love his old music.

The reason that "Why Georgia" is my song of choice for today is because it's about wanting to be rid of the past. I can relate, for some parts of my life.

I got this notebook for my birthday. It's been sitting in its plastic wrap since, and I decided to pull it out today. I kinda like it, but for weird reasons. It smells good, like when you open it, it smells like a dusty old record store mixed with some two dollar aerosol. I've never actually been to a record store, to be perfectly honest, but I'd love to see one. The town where I live is too small, I guess.

I don't know what to say. So I'll just ramble, like I normally do. I've been really anxious lately. My first day of grade twelve is in a matter of days, and I don't know what to think. I've been in high school last since grade 9, because that's just how the school board works here. Looking back, I've changed a lot. See, in my last year of elementary school, I was really plastic. I tried to do what everyone else was doing to be cool, but it wasn't really working. So I went online (yes, I really did, because I was that clueless), and I looked up how to be me. Hah. It honestly looked like it was copied and pasted from a sixth grade health textbook, and it pretty much taught me nothing. So I turned to music instead.

I've always been a music junkie, I think. I've always been really picky about what I listened to. When I was eight, instead of singing along to Hannah Montana, I was learning how to play "Blackbird" by the Beatles on my guitar. Come to think of it, I'm glad I was never a Hannah Montana fan because of Miley Cyrus's recent newly-made image. But that's beside the point.

Anyways, I found comfort in music. For all of grade six, I had one song on my iPod that I listened to on repeat. It's called "Big Black Car" by Gregory Alan Isakov. It's a strange name, but the lyrics were poetic. They weren't about sex or partying like most mainstream songs are about today, and they fit the style of the song perfectly. It's still on my playlist today, and I'm proud to say that I haven't gotten sick of it yet. Soon after this, I discovered Damien Rice, Matt Nathanson, Motopony, The Goo Goo Dolls, The Paper Kites, and so many other incredible artists and bands. I currently have over 900 songs on my playlist. I realized that the music that I enjoyed was classified under "indie folk", but I didn't like that name, so I called it "raw". I found this term by simply defining what the music was. It's not autotuned or dubstepped or whatever; it's real. Raw. I eventually got tired of wondering what the word "indie" meant, so I Googled it. Apparently, it's short for "independent." I read about how indie artists usually have a very unique sense of style, being that they dress in what they want. They don't follow trends. Same goes with their music. They won't sign with a record in fear of being pressured to go mainstream, and they usually don't tour a lot in fear if becoming too well-known.

It was probably the most confusing term I have ever read. And I fell in love with every word.

A lot of people say that going indie can't be an overnight process, but for me it was. I felt like I was wearing a thick disguise, and all I needed to do was strip it off of me. It was secretly who I have been my entire life. I had old vintage hand-me-downs pushed to the back of my closet, being hid in fear of being found and made fun of by my friends. I pulled them out, blew off the dust, and wore printed leggings, a lengthy white "ACDC" tee, chunky jewelry, and faded brown combat boots after the spring break of grade eight. I wore only mascara and concealer under my eyes, and took my biggest risk by colouring my lips a vibrant red. I kept my hair natural, which is wavy, and only straightened my bangs. For the first time in a year in a half, I felt 110% satisfied by the way I looked. And it look me less than eight minutes to do it.

I instantly gained a ton of attention, and I stood out, finally, in the way that I wanted to. I no longer had to worry about my appearance, which gave me the time to pursue other activities that I have always been interested in. One of those activities was attending Open Mic Night at a local popular coffee shop. I went every Sunday and played at 7:30 for about three months, and gained a bit of "fame" from that. Soon after, I met four other people just like me who asked if they could jam with me. Only two of them knew each other. I later found out would become my best friends. Their names are Anthony, Nate, Cole, and Tess, and we ended up jamming for twenty minutes in front of a small crowd. We played together perfectly. All of us can sing, and everyone but me can play more than one instrument. Anthony plays guitar and banjo, Nate plays guitar and piano, Cole drums and plays bass, Tess plays guitar and violin, and I play guitar, but I also write and am more organized than all of them put together. We eventually formed a band called Down Under, and we do a gig every Sunday night after Open Mic Night until 10:45. A year later, we started grade nine, our first year of high school together, and it was like being home.

This had its perks, but at the same time, a small downside.

People at school began talking about us. They knew about our growing popularity in the musical side of our town. We were considered "try hards" and became outcasts for a while. We didn't care, though. For all of grade ten and eleven, maybe a little bit of grade nine too, we stuck with one another and we ended up enjoying ourselves. We laughed at how stupid they are, and how they were jealous because they're stuck in The Mainstream. The popular people took note of this, and things slowly began changing. I still don't know what happened. For the last month of grade eleven , we were popular, and whatever we wore became trendy. It was horrible. Thank god school let out, because it was getting out of hand. All summer, I have been exhausted and confused.

Tonight alone, I have ignored six texts and Facebook message invites, all wanting me at some sort of party. It's seven thirty right now, and I feel like going to bed. I'm not a party girl by any means, unless I'm performing. So who cares if I can still see the sun? I'll shut my blinds and go to sleep. I will.

Goodnight. See you soon, I hope. This writing thing could become a good hobby.

Kayleigh