Part of a tattoo
studio’s ambience (beyond the requisite smell & look of cleanliness, of
course) is the music. It permeates the space and enfolds the occupants,
maintaining the day’s mood. Today is Super Soul Saturday (first time
designation for that particular alliteration, but perhaps today marks the start
of a weekly tradition (hope! hope!)) Thus far I’ve recognized Norah Jones,
Ronnie Milsap, Rod Stewart, Melissa Etheridge, Justin Timberlake. Any minute
now, I’ve no doubt that Frank Sinatra will filter through — and then again —
and again and again and again — again, again …. If you’re thinking fetish, then
know that’s exactly what I’m suspecting, too.
Other than this
moment in time, any other day could be filled with show tunes or
country-and-western ditties. Some days are nothing but head-banger ballads and
whatnot (i.e., scottyshitty); some are all jazz and blues or R&B, and every
now and again there might be some contemporary rock and pop or even reggae.
Oftentimes, new and obscure talent radiates through the rafters. Bruno Mars and
Alabama Shakes, for example, were standards at the Arsenal long before either
group made radio waves or debuted on late night. And then there’s the
new-age-ska-punk-emo-deathmetal-whathaveyou music. Pretty much everything
except a day’s dose of rap, which I’ll reveal is, indeed, my all-time favorite.
I absolutely love moving to the beat and mouthing dirty words without penalty.
But I’ve digressed.
Whatever the
genre, this anecdotalist and fellow Arsenal inhabitants are subjected to the
all-encompassing beats and rhythms that pervade the studio. Our physiological
affects reflect the subtle manipulation of the music’s timbre, aligning our
mood with that of the artists in residence; that is, those who selected the
music in the first place.
A synergy is
established and the day soulfully plays itself out.