Thursday, January 26, 2012

No. 861 – Whirlpool

Performer: Seal
Songwriter: Seal
Original Release: Seal (I)
Year: 1991
Definitive Version: None

One thing that always has been true about my music preferences is that I’ve added old things long forgotten to the repertoire later in life. That’s certainly true of this song.

After I was introduced to this album in 1992, I played it constantly for the next year and when Seal’s second album came out in 1994, it was more of the same, as I’ve indicated. When Seal kind of disappeared in the late Nineties, I assumed that anything that would grab my attention from him would have to be something new, because I had already made up my mind which songs I liked and which songs would slide into the abyss of time.

Fast-forward another half-decade. I don’t remember when I first realized that Laurie loved Seal too. I’m certain it was early in the relationship, but it became apparent after I moved in with her in 2005 that Seal’s first album was one of her favorite albums, because she played it (the tape version, of course) pretty much every weekend at some point, usually as she was preparing early-afternoon brunch.

Although we encountered a bit of friction after I moved in due to the adjustment—me to a new city trying to find a job and her to having someone live with her for the first time in 17 years.

What I quickly learned was that when she was in the kitchen, the best way I could help was to get as far out of the way as possible (wisdom that holds true to this day). The kitchen was her fortress of solitude. I’ve always been the opposite: I have no problem chatting up people while I cook, but, again, you make the adjustment.

Laurie had her stereo wired so one speaker was in the living room in the front of the apartment and another was in the dining room in the back close to the kitchen. I’d be in the front room working on my research at her desk while she cooked, and when things were about ready, she’d call me to the table for the grand presentation of the meal.

It’s while sitting at the table with the early afternoon sun beginning to creep into the West-facing windows and lighting up the room that I have a clear vision of this song. Laurie’s bringing out the food, and I’m totally in love with her, and all of a sudden, I realize that I’d never really heard this song before. I knew it, of course, and I liked it fine from many years before, but it had slipped into the ether.

Now, I was hearing it in a totally new light, and … it’s a really good song. Why didn’t I notice this before? Different time, different perspective.

1 comment:

  1. Actually, it was 16 years, but who's counting when you still feel all mushy inside reading this almost ten years later?