The Song That Changed My Life: Waynn Lue

By Waynn Lue (@waynnlue): Xoogler, Entrepreneur, Startup Advisor/Investor

The first CD I ever received was the first Backstreet Boys album. A friend of mine gave it to me as a birthday present and said, “I know you like hiphop, so I got you this album.”

From those inauspicious beginnings, I started building up the biggest collection of video game music albums I could find, from Yasunori Mitsuda’s beautiful orchestral soundtrack for Chrono Trigger to Nobuo Uematsu’s classic Final Fantasy albums. I joined a forum dedicated to video game music called Gamingforce (I just checked, my account’s still valid there!), set up an FTP, and started learning everything I could about digital media. I learned IRC, and started using tools to create my own remixes, hoping to emulate some of the best songs I heard off of OverClockedRemix (http://ocremix.org/). I studied up on TCP/IP and networking, DMZs and NATs, all concepts that I used for my CS senior project years later. In short, it was one of the reasons I got into entrepreneurship and technology to begin with. I still listen to those albums, though these days I’m using different tools.

And the Backstreet Boys album? It was actually pretty solid.

Submissions welcome.  Send to hello@rexly.com

A little musical nourishment for you as Mac Lethal makes a mean pancake.

The Song That Changed My Life: Jane Hu

Jane Hu is the head of Programming Strategy at YouTube’s Next Lab

Okay I have a confession to make. Somewhere on my laptop is a spreadsheet where, for the past decade, I’ve kept track of every concert I’ve attended. It’s the music geek’s equivalent to notches on the bedpost. And in true geeky form, it includes not just the name of the band and the date, but also the venue, city, genre, who attended with me, whether I’d seen the band before, and other mildly embarrassing, overly-detailed statistics.

When Joel asked me to write for Rexly’s Formative Musical Experiences, the first thing I did was drag my feet. The second thing I did was dig up this spreadsheet. And, after two hours spent pouring over it, I’ve finally given up and just confessed to having this obsessive cataloging behavior. Because nearly every line in this spreadsheet was formative in some way or another. Line 135 (Arcade Fire, Coachella, 2005) was the first time I danced as if there was no one watching. Line 168 (The Frames, LA, 2005) was the first time music got me high—so high that I felt like I was physically levitating above my body still standing enraptured in the crowd. By Line 541 (Mogwai, SF, 2009), music had become a religion and all of the audience—me included of course—its hypnotized devotees.

Line 73 (We Are Scientists, SXSW, 2005) and Line 269 (Pedestrian, LA, 2006) marked when I met two of my best lifelong friends. Line 158 landed me my job.  ine 362 (The National, NY, 2007) was exactly the catharsis I needed to get over a breakup. Line 337 took me down a rabbit hole that has changed me irrevocably.

Line 487 (Spoon, SF, 2008) kicked off one of the biggest nights of my life. Or was it Line 467 (The All-For-Nots, LA, 2008)? Or Line 59 (Beck, LA, 2005)? Or Line 367 (Gogol Bordello, LA, 2007)? Or Line 627 (Crystal Method, Burning Man, 2010)?

These 700+ lines make up who/where/how I have been over the past decade, how I have come to see the world, where I derive my sense of self—not to mention just plain making me happy. I am so excited for the next 700.

-@plainjanehu

The Song That Changed My Life: Joel Resnicow

What follows is the first post in Rexly’s new “Formative Musical Experiences” series, which will include contributions from Team Rexly, digital media peers, and anyone else who has a story to tell. All contributions welcome (send to hello@rexly.com). 

It’s the emotional power that has always drawn me to music.

From my first concert (Billy Joel Storm Front tour at Yankee Stadium!), to my first album, (Pearl Jam’s Ten!!), to my first breakup album (Ryan Adams’Heartbeaker!!!), I’m always surprised when music makes me see something differently, feel something I didn’t know was inside me, or makes me stop feeling something. That’s why I spent my senior year of college doing research on the science of emotions in music.

   

But the album I found the most personally challenging, emotionally complicated, and ultimately rewarding was Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.  It was a strange time for me (Heartbeaker was in heavy rotation), for Wilco (Reprise dumped them), and the world (we were all trying to make sense of the world post-9/11). At first listen, YHF made absolutely no sense musically or lyrically. They ignored all conventions, even grammar. The first minute of the album is static, feedback, and alarm clocks, and the first lines are:  ”I am an America aquarium drinker/ I assassin down the avenue.”

But with each listen, it became more strangely compelling, more strongly magnetic. I came to understood and relate to the complex emotions driving the songs, and became more comfortable with the remaining chaos. There was a clear vision underneath, which was hidden, battered and distorted. And searching for it changed how I listened to other music, opening up to a whole new world, from Pavement and Modest Mouse, to Jay-Z and Dead Prez. And to this day, when I can’t make sense of something, or know I need to adopt a new frame of mind, I put on YHF and let it take me somewhere new. And as an entrepreneur, I’m inspired by and aspire to their depth of vision, creative integrity, and endless perseverance.

(Note: This post was originally published on 09/08/2011 on the Rexly website blog)

So we’ve retired our blog, aka AwesomeSauce, in favor a Tumblr, a more happening spot to mingle with likeminded folks.  We’ll repost the best of AwesomeSauce for posterity, and add some new goodies too.

Our inaugural tumblog is our 1st annual Holiday Card.  It’s dedicated to our users, who made 2011 a helluva a ride.  We’re here because of you, so thank you! And let us know how we can make 2012 more awesome.

Good times,

Joel, Kyle & Brad