My relationship with music got off to a pretty rocky start.

I’m not sure if it’s just me, but I had no control over the radio growing up — that was strictly my mom’s domain. Sure, she meant well, but my young ears were abused by the Annie soundtrack ad nauseam in the early eighties. Shit got a little better a year later when the soundscape of the Aronowitz household was dominated by Flashdance, but not much. (Come to think of it, I can probably attribute my lightweight welding fetish to that movie, but I digress.)

I didn’t really understand the magic of music until I got my own system and was allowed to buy records, tapes, and (eventually) CDs with my allowance money. That’s when it hit me: Music is awesome. (Only certain types of music suck… like show... Read More