If you were marooned on an island that does not even show up on the nautical maps.
No radio. But no stations if you did to tune, pull in signals. Plenty of fresh tropical fruit, cold shaded spring drinking water, warm sea breeze temperatures though. No worries about being unarmed. With no snow shovel, windshield ice scraper either. Nor an extensive wardrobe like being in Maine four seasons creates the need. To cover all the bases, bare skin spaces, places. To protect from the outdoor elements, scrapes, bruises, bumps.As you explore, focus on survival but making the most of the surroundings of blue green water, loaded with exotic wildlife. Scant for inhabitants with human DNA.
Rocks formed, shaped on the beach asking politely but loudly for overhead “HELP”.
Drift wood, dried stalks, blow downs in the forested section of your little island latched onto, hauled, dragged to the smooth open sand. Arranged for a bonfire. To torch, touch off, light up quickly.
Should jet or turboprop engines perform a fly by. To activate to flash point with a precious lighter if a boat is spotted plying the horizon. Should just happen to be spotted meandering, bobbing by.
Knowing you are no where near sea shipping lanes. Rats. Not going to see barges stacked high with containers of bananas in your field of vision.
To do jumping tack hand waves to be noticed in spy glasses. It’s like living on a dead end street in the Bermuda Triangle neighborhood of “no one’s home” Omega Man. Ever. The quiet is deafening, takes getting used to like being in the Maine country. After shell shocked too long. With city noises that never sleep. So it takes months, years to lose the ringing in your ears urban exposure damage causes if you ever do.
But you have music through it all on your little island.
Solar powered, limited hard drive size portable device you treat like porcelain. Like the question posed, pondered with friends by your own bonfire at a summer gathering, what three musical artists if limited to that low number would you pick to survive? Need to keep your marbles intact, operational. Your wits about you to get off this rock speck and back into civilization someday.
Warner Brothers used to have a loss leader album set they would issue to the public. For only two dollars to cover cost of production. And a puny shipping, handling for peanuts fee tacked on to get the thin flat tall package to your house from Burbank California. Have a bunch. Sent in the box tops. Big back in the late 1970’s, early 1980’s where you received in the mail ten to twelve tracts to nibble on, tickle your ears.
Music of brand new, unknown, fresh, green musical artists.
No memories attached. Fresh slate. Where bands, singers who did not show up on radar, virtual unknowns, not burdened with any fame or fortune. Zip for success but talent, promise, potential to soar and connect. Over the radio airwaves. Back when people saved up, debated, bought one album at a time. Studied the jacket art work, memorized the lyric sheet and added the album cherished to a wall shelf meager collection.
Pretty obscure samplers with a wide range of artist genres spotlighted. Using a low budget, shoe string promotional word of mouth approach touched on. Not like MoTown with one R & B Detroit sound theme. Varied big time.But all had potential and hitching a ride on a vinyl 33 & 1/3rd poo poo platter to spin to win. All hoped and prayed. I would want one of my island alone channels to be this loss leader stream. And for my second wish Genie, throw in some Credence, CCR. Or it’s a toss up between Jim Morrison with the Doors or the Stones to keep me balanced. Vote number three, U2 or Coldplay would be the musical pick from the cutting the cards selection. This is not easy.
If I was stuck in a solitaire spot as just me, myself, I in the wolf pack.
An army of one, killing time in a different venue to make the most of it, I would reach for different musical groups to enhance, tranquilize, tenderize the location or conditions. The new musical stream of performers from the loss leader channel of up and coming Warner Brother artists. Would be the keep me going seasoning. New stuff for the heart, soul, grey matter. To be in the background of new experiences, relationships, seasons of life.
Because life without music would be like losing the ability to see, feel, get lost in color. In a prison of just black, white, shades of gray darkness. Luckily all the grown kids now have the same love of music, need for tunes to expand, maintain their life.
Music, gives you something to believe in.
Keeps your head above water. Up or down your feet from touching the ground. Lets you soar, detach, not ever backed in a corner. Feel like you are outdoors in Maine where rich life happens, is now showing. And we have box seats saved for you, no charge. Except get here. Soon. Don’t stay away so long. Maine… she’s calling your name, tugging on your heart strings. Hear the Maine loons, fog horns, rain on the camp roof, the crackling of a fire you cook on? That’s the Maine I know.