How the Stereo Shattered the Closet

Again, leave it to AfterEllen.com to encourage discussions on various coming out subjects. This particular topic seems tailored for this blog and this blogette right here.

Trish Bendix launched a survey around the e-water cooler with her fellow writers and I am compelled to respond. "The Soundtrack To Your Sexuality" -- what song/album/artist formed the soundtrack to your coming out?

I could not resist.

It's difficult to pick out individual tracks. Plus, most of the songs I attribute to coming out are based on a reflective stance. Most of the music comes from the days I term the "proto-lesbian times" when I was still unaware of who I was. As for the later years, I don't have tracks I associate with for the sheer fact of coming out. There were other events going on at that point while I was still mulling through my own identity politics.

Anyhow, too much chat.

Here are the main tunes and artists on the soundtrack to my coming out:

The Beatles: Now, I know I made a post on this about one year ago (May 25, 2009: "Speaking of Origins....") but it still holds true. My Dad made it his mission to teach us kids about the bands he worshipped and, yes, The Beatles were my favourite band by the time I was six-years-old. However, their lyrics had the opposite effect on me. Instead of imagining myself as the love interest of the Fab Four, I found myself falling for the women in their songs. Stand out tracks include: "Lovely Rita," "Long Tall Sally," "I Saw Her Standing There," and "Back in the U.S.S.R." -- huh, in that brief survey alone, it appears Paul McCartney had the biggest hand in my coming out. Congrats, Macca. I still find myself swooning over the women depicted here. I'm pretty certain when I fall in love for the first time, The Beatles will find their way onto numerous mix CDs I will make for her...

"Don't Speak," No Doubt: I know, it's a break-up song. But, as indicated above, the young Moffatt did not interpret lyrics in the standard form. Without delving into great detail, I associate this track with the great loss of a great girl. In reflection, I believe she was likely the first love of my life -- it was subconscious, though, which is why I do not count her as the official first love. Still, it brings me back to grade six each time.

Third Eye Blind: Most people write off this group and I bite my thumb at them. Their self-titled debut is the living soundtrack of my thirteen-year-old self. It is vivid for me and I still register physical reactions to most of their tracks. The album was released in 1997, but I did not stumble across it for an additional two years. Still, the effect it has on me is beyond words. It is the soundtrack for the clearest and happiest moments of that year, the heart-shattering events, and the first expressions of confusion I went through regarding that fragile sexual identity of mine. I can remember the people I dedicated each song to. Complex emotional ties to 3EB -- some might laugh, but the album will always hold a great significance for me.

As for the high school and undergrad years, I don't have the same palpable connection between music and the coming out process. I don't know that I used music to nurse me through those internal discussions and those personal revelations. I know Queens of the Stone Age hold a special spot for O'Neill and I in relation to our friendship and our first faltering steps out of the closet as adults, but I wouldn't point to an album or a song to depict it.

Strange.

So there, another music-themed post for this week at Cute, Queer, Canadian. I'm sure I've tuckered out all the ears across the Blogosphere with the bands and/or artists I've been forcing onto readers this week. I'm just full of cheek, aren't I?

And now, I turn this question over to you -- what songs impressed themselves onto your coming out years? What sort of impact lingers there?

I'm all ears.