Martin Luther—not Atlanta’s own Dr. King, but the sixteenth century priest who was his namesake—once wrote, “Next to the word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.” Salvation South editor Chuck Reece believes the music we take to heart when we're young can change us forever. Here’s Chuck with some thoughts on that.

Music of Youth

The Replacements (left), Joan Baez (right)

Credit: Collage by Jake Cook

TRANSCRIPT:

Chuck Reece: When you think back to the music you loved when you were in high school—or in college, or both—do you believe it influenced the course of your life?

I know I do. The music of my youth taught me new things and made me question things I’d already learned. It changed my mind. Literally. And forever.

I was reminded of this recently when a frequent contributor to Salvation South, the magazine I edit, sent me an essay about the music that pointed her in a different direction. The writer, Deb Bowen, who grew up on the North Carolina coast, wrote about a visit to see her mother, late in her life, at a nursing facility. On this day, she found her mom sitting in on a “reminiscence therapy” group. The facilitator asked the group to talk about their regrets.

As they went around the room, most said they had several regrets. But Deb’s mom was different.

“I only got one,” she said. “I’m sorry I let Debbie buy that Joan Baez album. It made her a hippie radical, and she never got over it.” 

MUSIC: Joan Baez - "Diamonds and Rust" 

"Well I'll be damned..."

Chuck Reece: Deb learned to sing and play the civil-right movement anthem “We Shall Overcome” from Joan Baez’s nineteen-sixty-three live album. Deb remembers practicing her guitar one night when her father barged into her room and demanded she stop playing the song.

“Yes, sir,” Deb replied. “You won’t hear it, but I won’t stop singing it.”

By the time I reached my late teens and early twenties, the nineteen-seventies were rolling over into the eighties. Growing up, I had absorbed the news of lynchings and murders of civil rights activists—and the assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King. My generation was not so sure it would overcome someday. I, for one, was less interested in peacemaking than I was in finding a vent for my anger.

Thus, it was punk rock music that grabbed me and never let me go. There was, of course, the smash-the-state ethos of the British bands like the Clash and the Sex Pistols. But I gravitated toward the more personal lyrics of American bands like R.E.M., whose formation in Athens, Georgia, happened while I was in college there, and a band from Minneapolis called the Replacements.

The Replacements had a song called “Unsatisfied” with the line “Everything you dream of is right in front of you / And everything is a lie.” That song mirrored my mood so well.

I outgrew the misanthropy of that Replacements song long ago, thank heavens. But I’ve never outgrown my curiosity about how music has the power to put people on paths that they keep walking throughout their lives. If you have a story like that, I’d love to hear it. Just email us at service—S-E-R-V-I-C-E—at SalvationSouth.com. 

 

Salvation South editor Chuck Reece comments on Southern culture and values in a weekly segment that airs Fridays at 7:45 a.m. during Morning Edition and 4:44 p.m. during All Things Considered on GPB Radio. Salvation South Deluxe is a series of longer Salvation South episodes which tell deeper stories of the Southern experience through the unique voices that live it. You can also find them here at GPB.org/Salvation-South and wherever you get your podcasts.