What came first, the music or the misery?

I've definitely had technical malfunctions where the music turned off and I couldn't get to my phone or the speaker to fix it, so we continued the massage in silence. And I've had the client who asked if she could schedule her appointment at a very specific time so she could listen to her favorite program on NPR instead of music. I've had clients who prefer to listen to something they can ignore and I've had clients who just want the volume very low. But I've never had the client who requests no music. Until last weekend.

For the first few years of my career, I worked in places that either pumped their own music into the room or restricted me from playing any "music with words". I think we all know what I'm talking about when I say, "spa music". Lots of chimes and flutes and whale songs, you know what I mean. It got to a point where I had memorized every song on every spa soundtrack and would quietly hum along to them while I was working. Those whale sounds are a real vibe, let me tell you. I had a client once ask me if I had choreographed my massage to the music because it felt like I was moving in time with whatever whale happened to be singing. I hadn't but it made me more aware of how the music was affecting how I moved.

At a certain point, I started working in places where it was accepted and even encouraged to play my own music. At first I was nervous to share the music I found acceptable because, I mean, what a way to be judged. Like that moment on a first date when they ask you what kind of music you listen to and you just feel immediate shame and uncertainty in how to answer. Sorry, that's not a first date question, it's far too personal. For my massage playlists, I started out with things that I, myself, found to be relaxing and chill. Things like Sufjan Stevens, City and Colour, Bon Iver, Ray LaMontagne, Rachael Yamagata (my personal fav), etc. In the beginning, I just chose an artist and set it on their shuffled "station" on Pandora (yes, I'm ancient and I can't handle Spotify). But often, as Pandora tends to do, a completely random song would pop up that was too random, too upbeat, too distracting and I would have to either run to my phone to change it or quietly apologize to my client while I covertly tried to lean my forearms against their ears while I worked on their neck. So, I decided to take it back to my middle school days and start creating my own playlists like I was about to burn the sickest massage CDs ever.

My brother took me to my first concert in Portland at the Roseland when I was a wee teenager. Having grown up in small town Alaska, the metal detector and bouncers were completely overwhelming and I mostly just stared at the stage in terror and awe as my brother and even a bouncer, I think, tried to get me to dance. The concert was Hoobastank, because I know you're wondering, which was exciting to me because they currently had a hit song out for the SpiderMan movie. But the openers were the more intriguing bands for me. The next day, my brother took me to Music Millennium on E. Burnside and I immediately purchased CDs from Dredg and Phantom Planet. Quick PSA: Portland is a fucking amazing music town. Like, I know I live in Austin, the Live Music Capital of the World, but if you want some mosh pits and folky jam bands and spur-of-the-moment-weekday-concerts, Portland is the shit. And I miss it all the time.

The other amazing musical influence in my life was my roommate and good friend, Chelan, who introduced me to lots of good artists during my freshman year of college and even convinced me to do a radio show with her during our sophomore year. The radio station, KZUU, was run by the university and strictly played independent and underground artists (oh heyyy we played Bon Iver before it was cool and before anyone knew it was pronounced ee-vay). We were allowed to bring our laptops to copy the music in the studio and my music library and love grew exponentially.

These days, I take pride in the playlists that I create for my massage sessions and have been encouraged more and more as I get so much feedback about how good they are. I mean, I know, I spend a lot of time on them. I pull anything from current jams to things I loved in high school to instrumental hip-hop (massage therapists, this is a real game-changer when you aren't allowed to play "music with words"). Which is why it was straight up heartbreaking when my client requested no music. No. Music. I had the fan and the air filter running, so it wasn't silent, but come on. No music?! Not my jam.