“My earliest memories of listening to vinyl were when my Dad would put on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John when I was a kid. I remember him dancing to the album in a tiled entryway that we used as a makeshift stage. He would dance with his best friend Jerry Cohen to “Bennie And The Jets,” their favorite song. As they danced and cracked each other up, I learned music could make people feel pure joy and love.”
“After Dad and Jerry finished dancing, the album kept playing, and I would look at the album cover’s vivid illustrations totally absorbed as each picture told a little story about one of the songs. I was utterly mesmerized; I was under a spell. Watching my Dad experience so much ecstatic joy and pleasure made me believe that music had unique power. The artwork and lyrics helped me to absorb that reality in a whole new way.
My dad continued to expose me to incredible music from his record collection. He was especially fond of Motown. He was the lone white guy in an African-American group from downtown LA; music has always been deep in my Dad’s soul. Besides Elton John, he danced on that tile stage to Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder, and The Jackson Five. The swirling keys, pocket grooves, and jubilant horns made me feel so happy!
These albums released a cellular joy in my veins. The incredible talent of these artists cut deep to my core. A couple of years later, Michael Jackson would release Thriller and my brother bought the album and the whole family danced to it! I was blown away by the music’s incredible force; I was dumbstruck. Coincidentally, Michael Jackson lived down the street from us! Sometimes we would see him driving down Alonzo Drive in his black Mercedes. He would always wave and smile.
A couple of years later when I reached my preteen years I gravitated towards Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Jon Gras, and The Beatles. Bob Dylan’s work showed me you could really express a worldview through music; he also taught me about anti-establishment perspectives and poetic imagination—how to see the world and myself more deeply. Billie Holiday taught me about the voice and how to feel more deeply. The Beatles taught me about genre bending and playfulness and how music works.
I also became aware that big brother had a tremendous record collection! He was getting ready to go to college and couldn’t take his albums, so I started to investigate his collection. I idolized my brother so naturally he became an invaluable resource on all relevant and worthwhile music. When Todd went away to college, I was able to raid his records and discovered untold treasures—music that would further inform my identity as a person and a songwriter.
There were the masterworks of Joni Mitchell. I studied them with total religious devotion and awe. The first songs I learned to play on the guitar were hers. I was stunned by her totally unique writing style and arranging. I was moved by her emotional depth and rich narrative capacities. I was utterly amazed by the social commentaries on The Hissing of Summer Lawns.
To my amazement there were even more incredible albums on his shelves: Tom Waits, Brian Eno, Laurie Anderson, The Clash, Kate Bush, David Bowie, Devo, and the Talking Heads; I devoured them all…being really careful not to scratch them! These albums helped me see and appreciate how music can be art. The theatrical and art rock dimensions of these artists opened up new worlds for me. It wouldn’t have been possible to discover my own creative voice without this music.
I am forever indebted to these musicians for their remarkable legacies and to my dad and my brother for putting their amazing vinyl collections at my disposal.”
—Gwynneth Haynes
