Back to the Past – And a (not exaclty) new mp3

Chances are, if you’ve had more than two conversations with me, at least one of them has involved the Back to the Future trilogy.  Perhaps I’ve espoused my firm belief that the first woman who responds positively to the pick-up line “I’m your density” is densined to be my future wife.  Perhaps we’ve discussed the brilliant subtlety of the naming of the Twin/Lone Pine Mall.  Perhaps I’ve shared the fact that the second installment was one of the greatest disappointments of my childhood (clearly if Old Biff caused the rift in the space time continuum in 1955 when he gave Young Biff the almanac, there would be no way for him to return the Delorean to Marty and Doc in Original 2015 and thus no way for Marty to travel to Alternate 1985 – c’mon!).

Whatever we’ve discussed, it should be relatively obvious that I would be pretty geeked about the 25th anniversary of the film and all of the subsequent Blu-Ray release.

So, to celebrate this monumental occasion, Michael and I thought we’d share a relatively unknown Kooman and Dimond song, one of the first songs we wrote, titled (cleverly) “Back to the Future”.

Here it is, as performed by J.D. Daw.

Appropriately enough, as a songwriter, listening to something you wrote five years ago is a lot like taking an accidental trip back in time provoked by a van full of gun-wielding Libyans.  It’s a bit painful at times, but you get a pretty clear view of how far you’ve come since November 5th, 1955.

Maybe you have to come to terms with the fact that your father was a total dork.  Maybe you get a rather eye-opening new perspective on your mother’s promiscuity.  Maybe you realize that your sense of structure was weak, your scansion sloppy, and your understanding of perfect rhyme non-existent (“alas I’m sure”/”capacitor” – Seriously?).

But ultimately, you emerge from your journey with a certain sense of nostalgia, a healthy respect for the past in spite of its flaws, and a new found appreciation for where you are today.

Until Doc Brown tells you what a mess your kids turn out to be.


This entry was posted in christopher dimond, kooman and dimond, New Song!!, On Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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