An elderly gentleman comes up to me and looks at me in the most puzzled of manners before asking me if I can call him a taxi to go home to his wife. He can't. He's been asking me the same question everyday for the last week and seems troubled. He occasionally gets aggressive. Nurses try and settle him and lead him back to his bed .The only thing that seems to calm him for any extended amount of time is listening to old songs and getting to decide what song plays next. His wife was no longer alive and people had stopped trying to tell him the truth of it all in an effort to be kind. He was confused, delirious and out of time. But a song grounded him perhaps not in the present time but in a previous one.
Music is a powerful tool and a powerful reminder. When I look back I can track my whole life in terms of what music was out and what I was listening to. It helps put together a narrative. The same goes for making music and the process of writing, recording, mixing and performing. It becomes its own catalogue and my own autobiography not necessarily in terms of factual content but the kind of ideas, thoughts and feelings that were going through my mind at that junction. Songs become snapshots and photographs. Albums become journals. Sometimes you may look back afterwards and think "what was I thinking" and other times you may look back and pat yourself on the back.
I don't know what I'll think in a few years time of the songs I'm releasing now. But I know, right now, they are the songs I want to share with the world. Perhaps one day in many years from now I will play one of these songs and feel I've become a time traveller. But that's then and this is now.