Tuning Out

Living in New York, it's mandatory in your everyday life to zone out and enter a cocoon of personal space, be it in the subway, waiting in line at restaurants, or even just walking down the block. In a sense, it's an escape -- a chance to block out all the noise and traffic around you -- but in other ways it's pretty frustrating. I'll be on the 6 train or walking down Broadway when I notice how nearly everyone has the familiar white earbuds of the iPod on, serving as some sort of modern blinder not unlike those worn by the horses pulling carriages in Central Park. I often think about the age before the Walkman and the cell phone, when folks were left merely to their own thoughts, or (heaven forbid) conversations with strangers.

But as I struggle to moderate my time spent zoning out with my tunes -- after all, a little conversation with strangers adds some spice to life -- I find myself keeping track of habits and themes in the music I listen to. It's become a sort of involuntary reflex, to pick the right type of music to suit the occasion of my errands and daily travels.

For example, after all the years of flying I've endured, I hate to admit that I'm probably not the most carefree airline passenger to have stumbled dazed through the halls of LaGuardia. There's just something about the safe, comfortable ground receding so quickly and being swept up leagues above the shimmering expanse of the city that terrifies the living hell out of me. Once the captain has deemed it safe to use portable electronic devices, you'd better believe I am fully plugged in, usually listening to some jazz or classical to soothe my nerves. (Brad Mehldau and Chopin generally keep me from really losing it as we soar over the outer boroughs and the cars and buildings become miniature through my tiny rectangular window.) Once we've reached cruising altitude and I can remove my vise grip from the armrests, I'm more prone to switch to something more upbeat like rap or rock as I begin to examine the back of the head of the person sitting in front of me. You can probably tell I'm not a huge fan of air travel.

Similarly, when I'm crushed between commuters on the subway I have my standard fare for coping, and it's inevitably loud. In these situations I find hip-hop to be the only thing keeping my patience intact. Perhaps it's the rhythm and repetition of the beats, lulling me into a trance-like state. It could also be the overall in-your-face quality of the genre that distracts me from the armpit floating torturously close to my nose or the briefcase digging into my pelvis. Lately Lupe Fiasco and Nas seem to keep me from elbowing everyone in sight for a few more inches of standing room. They're pretty peaceful rappers, too; I'm afraid to imagine what might ensue if I listened to Lil' Jon or Ludacris instead.

Then there are the more mundane tasks, the kind that seem to float by weekly without ever really affecting your sanity or disposition. While grocery shopping I find Midlake to be a time-tested standby. Their rolling, haunting Fleetwood Mac-ish rock just perfectly complements standing about in the produce section searching for the perfect white onion. By the time I make it over to the dairy aisle, it's the jagged, guitar-heavy songs of Maximo Park that help me choose the right cheese. By checkout I'm usually sans headphones, preferring to instead eavesdrop on the never-ending bickering between the elderly and the hapless store clerks. This satisfies my desire for drama; in this city, the jabs flying over expired coupons far exceed anything reality television or even gangsta rap can dish out.

Of course there are those albums which I've yet to find a task or environment for. I'm still trying to wrap my head around M.I.A.'s latest, Kala. It's such a provocative and culturally busy record that so far it's best enjoyed with complete attention in front of the stereo. Perhaps I can find something new to do that will pair well with the frenetic nature of the songs. Doing the dishes, maybe?

I'd be interested to hear what music you like best when you go about your day-to-day activities. Do tell!

Comments

[sonofsamstone]

I've worn a walkman for years during my commute. Usually I listen to talk radio, sometimes I flip between music stations looking for something that puts me in a good groove while walking from the train to work. Marley is always good, as is War. When the batteries run down and I'm forced out of my envelope and into the REAL world, I'm......suprisingly happy. In fact, sometimes I'll unplug my ears and listen to the sounds of the city, experience the buzz and excitement of traffic and the crowd.
Then, of course, I'll get annoyed at the el-train rumbling by and the cabs honking at each other.....and I'll plug in again. At least until the annoyance diminishes. For me, it depends on the mood I'm in whether I'll experience the world or hide from it!

[dadw5boys]

With your head wrapped up in music you don't see thw real world around you. Real people living and doing things in a real world.
The people around you give off signals of danger or happiness, how can you feel that if the music has you thumpin?
The whole body sensation of being part of the human race when surrounded by people instead of zoned out in a drum solo.

[bobbo22]

When riding that 6 train up and down the east side, nothing can beat Wagner! He's loud (to drown out the noise around me), long (to fill the time of the trip), and deposits me in an aternate universe, often of the D&D variety. Nothing can top him!

[Nommo]

Life in the big town that difficult? You need better music or better drugs. Really, I have lived in NYC for all of my 50+ years, long before walkmans and all that stuff. Try a good book or wait for the next train, listen to Bud Powell or Thelonious Monk solo piano, Tony Bennett or Lady Day, Trane or Beethoven if you need to go deep.
I hope you have headphones that don't leak. You likely have no idea how annoying it is to have to listen to someone else's noise who imagines they have found some peace with what they call music today, for crying out loud.