Brett’s fine Nick Cave article got me thinking about music and cycling. We spend lots of time alone on our bikes. The bike is on autopilot, it stays upright from second to second, freeing up our brains to consider anything or nothing. Music might be the only riding companion we have but it has to be the right music.
Being as Pro as possible is not necessarily a good thing. Pros tend to blow through all stop signs and they care not a damn about Rule #62. As adamant as I am about sock length and color, I’m more of a hardliner about Rule #62. It is one Rule I have positively never broken, honest Father. Half my friends do though, oh I see them with their wires and ear buds. I get it, I just don’t ever do it. I want to know what’s coming up the road behind me. I also like to hear the world as I ride but I really want to hear that dog or cement mixer before they are right HERE. And I sometimes enjoy the voices in my head. They get me.
Before you go for a long ride, preplan your music, don’t just turn on the car radio as you motor away to meet your riding friends. A moment of inattention and you could be riding three hours with The Carpenters. My wife and I have a pact when riding together. Neither is allowed to sing aloud whatever terrible jingle or 80’s anthem song is plaguing our brains. Sharing such things is not good for a marriage.
It is the early morning riding where my brain is most susceptible to contamination. Wrung out from a night’s sleep, my brain will absorb anything. I have to saturate my brain with good music before something terrible gets in there; once it is in there, it is not coming out without a fight. I had an early morning teeth cleaning and while captive in the chair, their office music programming played nothing but Cher for thirty minutes. Oh I thought it was amusing at the time. The next day, Cher was still there. I was not amused.
Predawn, rolling along in the truck, bike in the back, something great on the stereo, even if the windshield wipers are on, this is how we get up for a ride. There may only be one song in the head for the next three hours but at least if will be a good one.
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True, the earplugs are a shortcut to the Rearly Gates, but a compromise is to jam your phone in your central helmet vent, vertivally, much like a Shark fin (I assume this is how Vince Nibali got his name
You do look like a twat, but Barbra Streisand has got me up a few long climbs that I may have felt I couldn't have conquered, accompanied only by the silent spinning of my chainset
Obviously, if your phone doesn't fit in your helmet properly, much as with your sunnies, get a new helmet
....what....?
@teleguy57
Granted. Considering it was well in the last century, consider your slate of shame wiped clean!
I've been reading a lot of "grown up" books lately. Hemmingway, London, Cormac McCarthy to name a few that have been at my bedside this year. I must say that for all of those, it was last night, reading the explanation of Rule #62, that I woke my wife from her sleep to read aloud a passage. Some drivel about an ape chasing a cyclist. Cheers to the keeper that illustrated so clearly the dangers of Rule #62 violations.
@Lazarus Thrift
Couldn't agree more.
@Deakus
I actually don't mind Call Me Maybe, and the best part of that Iggy Pop vid might be the rear of the autobus going by while they party in the road.
@All
It seems to me warming up on the turbo, with something other than a pair of beats of course, is quite pro these days. Since this is THE place to shit all over crap kit, what are some good criteria for selecting a pair of stylish headphones for pre race wear? And of course, quality sound is a style criteria all its own.
Music on the bike is out. Full stop. Music while warming up for a hill-climb TT or some other act of self mutilation .......... Then is can only be....
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CA52Z4NdDvw
SLAYER.>>
How anyone can listen to the haunting sound of the pan-pipes / some other supermarket music pre-full frontal assault is beyond me .......
@Shane ok, you've opened the pandora's box. slayer, from "reign in blood", track 1, 'angel of death' :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPGKlb8hklQ
starting at 1:38 mark, kmfdm stole that riff & made this gem, called 'godlike': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ho_WeNKhgxk
This is the genius of the Velominati. I've been the victim of a bombastic tune plaguing my brain for days, but have never thought of intentionally preloading for future benefit. "What's Goin On" will be going on before my ride tonight! The bass line alone is a symphony for cycling.
Now that Wiscot has given absolution...
Latest in my brain came from seeing Jackson Browne in Sturgeon Bay WI (really!) back in July. He's connected with a music collaborative there and did a benefit for them as a warm up for his upcoming tour after just finishing recording a new album. Solo show, JB, his piano, and 26 guitars on stage for him to pick and choose. No set list, just asked the audience to call out songs and when he heard a title that appealed to him, he played it.
What stuck with me was his rendition of Zevon's "Lawyers, Guns and Money." They had a somewhat tumultuous professional relationship/friendship, and Browne did a couple of his songs in tribute. Always loved Lawyers, Guns and Money -- good rhythm and great lyrics -- which I now found I can grunt out in phrases, along with grunting out the guitar licks as well.
@teleguy57
I thought that absolution could only come from The Prophet himself...and only after a healthy dose of hill repeats
@teleguy57
Man, that sounds like a sweet gig! Sturgeon Bay's a nice little town in a very pretty county. Have you ever done the Door Co century? It's coming up fast. I did it for the first time last year and really enjoyed it. I'm signed up again and will be skipping a work event to do so. No guilt trip involved as I'm missing the Heck of the North because of a work conflict - and I'd paid my registration for that one too!
@VeloVita
Probably true, but I called him out on it and he asked me for forgiveness. I thought it was the kindest thing to do . . . Mr Merckx is so busy these days he's hard to get a hold of . . .