Dan Ostdiek soundtrack at Playa Encanto
The above picture captures a moment in time that is indelibly etched into my memory. It is a story of fishing the flats of an enchanted beach. I was nearly a half mile away and Dan started playing while I was fishing. The light offshore puffs of wind carried the rhythms in to me, out, in and earlier in the day during a drunken nap, I was dreaming of fishing this beach. Some real inception shit going on.
Read on…
My first experiences with music were from my Mom partying with her friends. The dancing, the beat of the music was rhythmic to a child. It was fun to listen to and watch and learn.. The 60’s were my first exposure to music mixed with activities. At school, I was a part of a music program that introduced young people to classical music. All the famous composers and their works were introduced. There were competitions for identifying composers by listening to just a little bit of their work. The teacher handed out a test paper, cued up tracks from a record and we wrote our answers down. I did well because only a couple of use were chosen to go to a symphony, my first exposure to live music.
Later in the early 70’s my Mom would be listening to Credence Clearwater Revival, Led Zeplin, Deep Purple and Pink Floyd on a cassette player that she gave me. Skateboarding later would introduce me to boomboxes blasting punk rock music like Talking Heads, DEVO, 999, the Clash, the Police and many more great bands. Music dictated things like what kind of clothes I wore and how I approached a task while listening to the music.
I had friends in Punk Bands and going to a bar to see them play, meeting people (girls) was a thing late into the nights of the week. In my early twenties, music was very important in everything I did.
Having a good sound system was super important. Listening to music while travelling and while skating, riding or whatever was just a part of what I did. My friends and I were always on the scene with music.
Story: I remember working a full shift at when I was about 20 or so. Afterwards, I decided to meet friends at a club in Mesa called, “Friar Tucks” or something like that. We met and pre-gamed at a friends house and then over to the gig. I forgot who was playing, I think it was a friends band, “the Names” and we drank and danced well into the night. I remember being so amped that I didn’t want it to end. I looked at George and Monte, “Let’s drive out now! If we hurry, we can catch dawn patrol.” So we swung over to Monte’s house, he grabbed his board and trunks, George’s house the same and drove all night to the Tijuana international border, crossed and the 38 kilometers south to K-38 right point surf break. We paddled out into the sets and surfed till we got tired. Up at the car we took naps and surfed that evening before the sun went down.
Endless energy, all with a soundtrack driven by passion.
Punk Rock and New Wave was in the background the whole weekend.
Music accompanied everything I did.
Bahia de Kino with Isla Tiburon in the background
Later in life as an adult with responsibilities, I understood that a particular song or album could imprint memories far into the future when I heard that song. When I hear any song from the Janes Addiction album “Ritual de lo Habitual” I am immediately taken to a particular sunset in Bahia de Kino, it was the first time I did it, I was in my 30’s and on a fishing trip, the mood was epic, I was with friends and I recognized the moment. Quickly I found the CD, pushed it into the slot, told my buddies to listen to the music and lyrics. I did it, others did it too but it happened and I was there capturing it.
I learned that if I had an upcoming trip, I would listen to an album while I was there. This time it was Frank Ocean’s second album that was long anticipated and when it came out, I listened once or twice at home to preview. It was my second trip to Japan to go fishing headwater streams, it was on heavy rotation. Now when I hear a song from that album, zoom straight to Japan, right where I was listening to it.
Yeah, once I figured that shit out?
I’m on it now. There are a bunch of stories in here with soundtracks.
So.
I have fully established my intent on mixing music with my trips fishing. Here in Phoenix, it takes a full six hours to drive to the beaches of Southern California. Four hours to the Sea of Cortez. It takes time to get to where I’ve got to go. Why not fill that time behind the glass with music?
After those trips, I return to the keyboard and occasionally I’ll write a bit more than a story, I write lyrics to my own songs.
Here is one about hang gliding, it is a little dark, that’s how some of those memories are, dark, foreboding but here it is.
Tesseract
As I lay there thinking
My body is decaying
The ice melting
While the wind flows
Locked in my mind
What is real
Above the mountain
In the cu-nim
Is this the inception?
Am I dreaming?
Mother shakes me
I’m so young
My membrane wing fluttering
Spinning from the sky
Wrapped in silk
Broken!
Running faster down the hill
The sheet fills
In my mind I’m flying
On the ground I’m dying
Memories from a child
I grew up living
Making it happen
Only to return to the dream
Violently pulling earth
Ripping sky roaring
Yet peaceful
I’m going home
In the blackness
The sun brilliantly bright
The cold soaks my body
Am I alive in this flight?
Lyrics are a huge part of music. Duh. That’s what my memories reflect in the stories. A series of songs, somewhat random yet there is definitely a theme. I like an LA band, the Surban Lawns. Funny, they have songs about the desert, specifically a town in the desert on my route to the beaches of LA. I might be listening to something else as I see the sign go zipping by at freeway speed but that song starts playing in my head. I really enjoy those soundtracks, they are effortless, always on cue, ready…
It’s all memories and if I can augment them with music?
Music runs through all my stories, fishing, hang gliding, surfing. I try to be sharp about it, I try to relate it to my peers but ultimately, I stopped caring quite a while ago. That’s what I do, I stop caring about things that just don’t matter and I focus on what makes me happy.
Memories make me happy.
I started cranking this one out for a friend who writes music, it’s about a surf trip I did when I was young, about the time as the story above, I need to finish it.
Dome Light
Like Crayfish writing a song so long ago,
wheel in hand, headed for the sand, or waves of snow.
But this isn’t that, flying low, Milk above, beams a glow.
Bug crusting views, thoughts askew, this dance is new.
Monte lights the way, straps humming above, staccato line slay.
Crossing the desert for a new deal, life ahead through the windshield.
Dome light holds the waxed up foam line drawing scene.
Frank Gank, yes Ocean, or see, we are headed there, flips trunk and tee.
Sticks and stoned, our magic grown, from the Baja roam.
In the future, 2:13a writing at Imperial Beach,
the moon above Venus, wheeling and dealing,
our dream stealing song silver surf feeling.
As I move forward into the future, continuing this path, until the music fades, then, I can play the music and relive those memories. That makes me happy. I like it and I’m having a blast fishing the beaches again. Tangents, but all come from the same place, remembering a life of chasing fish, and few other things. It’s Corbina now, and Corvina.
¿Oeste hacia el Pacífico o sur hacia el Mar de Cortés? ¿Cuál es el ambiente? ¿Cuál es el ritmo, qué peces están corriendo? ¿Adónde voy?
What will be the soundtrack?
