A Fan is Born

My first taste of magic occurred early in life, when I was an impressionable five years young. My Mom had always been a music fan, so music as a concept was not new to my developing brain. The sounds of John Denver or Neil Diamond or Juice Newton often flowed through our cozy, 2 story home. While I enjoyed the soft sounds that permeated my daily life, not one of those artists crafted a sound that permeated my skin.

It was 1985 when I first heard Rick Springfield, and while most of the details of that transformative day elude me, the electricity that surged through my small frame revisits whenever I hear the opening chords to “Jessie’s Girl”. I recall sitting on my parents bed, my short legs hanging over the side, at least two feet from the floor. The huge, black stereo that seemingly had millions of buttons, was within reach on the top shelf of the headboard. Whether the song traveled from FM radio or Mom’s cassette player, I can’t be certain. But the feeling I had as it began to play, was jolting. I had no idea that a sound so energizing, so different from what I had known, existed!

My mouth hung open in awe, my hazel eyes widened in surprise, and my little white sneakers thumped against the side of the mattress, unable to control the power this new sound had over me. My inexperienced brain understood the meaning of the words Rick was singing, but I could not connect to the story he was creating. I was, after all, only five. Dating, and romance in general, was "icky" and the appeal was questionable. I did not fully comprehend why this woman was remarkable enough to be the subject of such an electrifying song, nor did I care to find out. It wasn’t the lyrics that were causing my whole body to tingle and shake with excitement. That honor belonged to the combination of Rick’s desperate tone and the wail of his guitar. By the time his guitar solo had started, over halfway into the song, I had launched myself from the soft bed, arms and legs flailing as I danced and released the palpable energy into the tiny room. This, I remember thinking, is me.

The next few months would find me deep into Rick Springfield’s musical catalog, thanks to my mom’s collection of records and cassettes. I can vividly recall my obsession with the 7” record of his single, “I Get Excited”, and my annoyance at having to keep turning the record over. The vocal tone and instruments were, again, the driving force behind my eagerness to absorb it as much as I could before being told “stop playing that song!”. The actual meaning of the message in this song was lost on my young ears. In hindsight, it was a pretty racy song for a child to obsess over. But, it was fun to dance to in my cramped, little bedroom. The b-side of that record, “Kristina”, was equally mesmerizing, slightly less inappropriate, and made me long to change my name so I could brag about having a cool song named after me.

On August 30, 1985, my parents took me to the New York State Fair to see my first concert: Rick Springfield. It was the first concert I would attend with my Mom, sparking a rock and roll bond we continue nurturing to this day. My Dad, not too impressed by Rick Springfield I guess, waited outside the grandstand for the duration of the concert. Seeing the songs I loved being performed live, and seeing Rick’s energy match my own, was surreal and overwhelming for little me. The night was an exciting blur, and as we left the fairgrounds, I remember looking up at the stars in the dark sky and quietly promising myself that I would love rock and roll forever. This feeling of contentment, of belonging to something huge that brings people together, I felt it deeply at only five years. This was my home.

There are countless songs, and many artists, that I hold close to my heart for various reasons, marking different phases of my life. My musical tastes span decades, and genres, and now that I’m older I have become more attached to the lyrical aspect of music. The songs that I love speak for me when I cannot articulate the words. Hearing “Jessie’s Girl” for the first time opened a door that I quickly bounded through, and never looked back. It encouraged me to peek behind other doors and find unique musical talents that ignite my fire. Bon Jovi, Nirvana, Mark Lanegan, The Misfits, No Doubt, Jeff Buckley, Social Distortion, Alice Cooper, Danzig, Soundgarden, Less Than Jake, Hole, Screeching Weasel, AFI, Johnny Cash, Rancid...this list could continue for a hundred pages. While the countless hours I spent listening to records and watching songs come alive on MTV may not have been the most productive way to spend my youth, it was essential to the growth of my heart. No matter where my musical exploration takes me, I will always be indebted to my parents for allowing me to run full speed through that open door, and to Rick Springfield for grabbing me by the ears and pulling me into the vast, gorgeous ocean of rock and roll.