Went to The Cure concert tonight at the Santa Barbara County Bowl. They played Pictures of You and my earplugs made it sound like I was in a cup, or a genie bottle, floating on a whitewater current of sound, beat booming through my chest, bumping me against images, loosening memories and shaking them free. Giddy youth with The Cure on the radio. Bright nights, shy desires, young limbs unsure of how to hold them, and silly squeals, car rides, hope up in my throat, breathless, dreamy, wishful youth.
When I took my ear plugs out for Just Like Heaven, it was like the band and the sold-out crowd were inside the genie bottle with me. Rocking from the inside out, riding on the sound.
So wild to be at the source of the soundtrack to youth. These guys and their sound heretofore in my head, in my car, now right here in my face, and a few thousand other faces at once. This time, instead of wondering about the music as I hear it, I'm wondering at the memories the music helped create. I missed Close to Me. :( My verymost fave.
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