It’s definitely fall around here. I went for a walk this morning while it was still dry and crisp outside. I heard a Black Crowes song and thought to myself — gosh, today would be a good day to listen to The Black Crowes. Usually when fall hits, I am compelled towards U2 and, more specifically, towards The Joshua Tree. (Was that album even released in the fall? Is it the moody music? I associate it with fall, but is that just because I discovered it during an autumn of teenage heartache?) Regardless, while The Joshua Tree will always mean fall to me, it shouldn’t get all of my autumn attention, and so it was nice to get a reminder of The Black Crowes and have something to dive back into. If I were ever forced to compile a list of favorite albums, their The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion would absolutely be on it (along with The Joshua Tree, of course).

Anyway, as often happens, I got sidetracked and had continued my day, Black Crowe-less. Then a friend texted me to tell me about a new Jason Isbell album of cover tunes, Georgia Blue. He was alerting me towards a cover of The Black Crowes’ “Sometimes Salvation”, which just happens to be on The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion. I laughed and told him that I had, just that morning, been thinking about The Black Crowes.

So of course on his recommendation, I listened to the Georgia Blue album, and it’s great just like he said. Imagine my surprise when I saw that it also contains a cover of R.E.M.’s “Nightswimming”. Just a few weeks ago, a podcast episode about that song sent me down a noodle-filled R.E.M. rabbit hole. I mean, really……isn’t this all some strange culmination of universal nudges?

And so as I continue my rock-stepping, I realize that my best times are not just when I have music, but when I talk about it. Music brings us together, and so do our musical memories. Those long conversations, when stories of concerts, albums, and songs come out. Maybe it’s around a dinner table, or a campfire, or on a beach. Even people who I don’t know very well — if I know your music stories, I feel like I understand you. Maybe that’s because the inverse is true — if you know my music stories, you know me.

Tonight I have the house to myself, and I am writing at the dining room table with my dog nearby, music playing. I happened to look back at my very first blog post, and had a full-circle moment. Plans and ideas are flowing as easily as the tunes on a favorite album.

Stay tuned.