Time Travel Navigator - The Extremist - Joe Satriani (Side B) - #acnotes

Imagine your mind is a time travel machine and you're the pilot. Now, who could be the navigator/co-pilot? Read on...

Time travel and nostalgia is one theme which I’ve been exploring for a while. I’ve written about it previously. However, that shouldn’t stop you from reading further. If anything, I’m trying to explore a new dimension to my theory or delving a bit deeper. In this case, it’s about how music could trigger nostalgia and take you back to a time gone by. While at it, unlike my previous #acnotes, where it revolved around a song, this time it’s an album I am recommending. To be precise, just the Side B of a Cassette.

Now imagine your mind is a time travel machine, and nostalgia is the fuel - for me this particular album - The Extremist by Joe Satriani is the navigator. That one co-pilot who guides me back to those days of yore. A map to find that place that’s marked with an X. So, when I listen to this album, I’m transported back in time to my first every trip to the hills - Ooty. I first came across this album a little before this bus journey through a cousin. However, his elder brother was the one who accompanied me on this trip along with my family to his uncle’s house near Coonoor.

Most parts about that trip is a blur, except for a few instances. However, the one that’s etched deep in my memory is how he gave me this cassette just a little before we reached the foothills. Now, picture these as a setting to what you’re about to read next: 30+ hair pin bends, a window seat behind driver’s seat and the B side of Joe Satriani’s cassette.

NOTE: Listen specifically from the 24:50 mark for Side B

The first track on Side B titled “Summer Song” began and we were seated right behind the bus driver with just a grilled frame in between. I guess that was the first time power steering was introduced in Government Buses (KSRTC Rajahamsa).
The driver effortlessly maneuvered around bends. As the blazing riffs played, the bus swerved with one horn or two to signal the vehicles coming in the opposite way. He was spearheading and spiraling up around the hill like a snake would coil around.

Then came a steep incline, as the bus chugged uphill “Tears in the rain” followed. Pure acoustic bliss with nothing but gentle plucking and gliding of the fingers across the fretboard.

I wasn’t prepared for the next onslaught. “Why” ushered in the rains outside the window. Not too heavy, nor too scant. It was pouring at a constant pace. The wipers on the windshield swayed like fans in a concert with their hands up in the air. Joe’s shredding was perfectly paired with the droplets sliding down the window panes.

It was “Motorcycle driver” next and a pure up-tempo rhythm. Eyes fixed on the road ahead. Silence fell all around. The lights were all dimmed inside the bus. With a veil of mist wafting on the road, on and off, the bus pierced through with the headlights blazing into the darkness.

Almost atop the hills now and heading straight - as though the driver and Joe Satriani were grooving hand-in-hand, the bus slows down. Steady pace. Not much to look outside. It seemed as though the cold was swallowing the bus as a whole. People scrambled around to get their shawls and sweaters on while “New Blues” faded in.
Maybe, a metaphorical cue of entering the blue hills. And the bus halts for a break. One by one everyone in the bus steps out. A tiny shack that serves tea and snacks is nestled cozily by the road with some space for a few vehicles to layover.
The tea is steaming hot. It’s served in glass tumblers. There’s mist, smoke and oblique streaks of light painting the hilly terrain as vehicles zip past. It feels as though we are amidst some clouds, yet we have no clue where. The song fades out. The walkman clicks and the tape stops playing. It’s the end of Side B.

Cut to, the present, I have to tap on the screen and the next song or album would play. However, back then, one had to take the cassette out and flip it to play Side A.
I leave it be for a while. My cousin, my family and I finish the tea. And we are back in the bus. Now, I don’t play Side A. Instead, I reach for my erstwhile Reynolds pen. A perfect companion to help rewind and conserve the charge on the batteries. Now I replay Side B again and recline. This happened on repeat till we reached Ooty. There was no skipping of tracks. No option to shuffle. I had to begin with Summer Song,
yet again.

Of course, I listened to Side A starting from Friends, then the title track - The Extremist, followed by War, Cryin’ and Rubina’s Blue Sky Happiness during the rest of the trip. But nothing matched up to the first experience or rather my first brush with Joe Satriani.

If I remember correctly, this was that first time ever my cousin introduced me to the concept of listening to music while looking out of the window. I’m sure many here would be wincing and wondering, what’s there to get introduced to?! Back then the whole idea of listening to music while on the road was possible through car stereo or if the bus played some blaring music in their speakers. For someone who had just gotten a new walkman (as a gift from an Uncle), this was something completely new. That apart, I had only watched this in movies, where you see the protagonist jogging or walking around with headphones on. Simply said, this opened up a whole new level of entertainment and experience for me, from which I’ve still not snapped out of. Till date, The Extremist is a go-to album for road trips. Or, late night, mindful listening.

These days, there’s no worry about conserving batteries or flipping the tape. That said, I still ensure, I listen to this album from Summer Song and then move to the top of the album playlist. For many, the patience or that simple effort to listen to an album from start to finish is lost. Needless to say, we got playlists. But if you look closely, this is an equivalent to binging on quick and instant/ fast food. We no longer go all the way to consume a wholesome 7-course meal. This one time, you could try listening to an album from top to the bottom of the intended playlist. See, if that would change the way you consume music. Listen carefully, and you might notice a coherent pattern emerge. Play it mindfully and listen, and maybe you’ll once again travel back to the first time you listened to that classic album. And when you’re there, everything around will fade. For a brief moment, you will age in reverse. You could for all you know relive that moment. In short, you could become a time traveler. And that old favourite album, your co-pilot.

Godspeed!
Bon Voyage.
Push play and go.

PS: Is there an album you listen to, which takes you back in time? I would like to know. Do share it in the comments please. And I promise to respond.