Once upon a time, in the quaint little town where I grew up, a serendipitous encounter unfolded, setting the stage for a lifelong affair with the vibrant beats and rebellious spirit of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Picture it: I was just about six or seven years old, strolling through the streets with my brother, unaware that destiny had laid a musical treasure at my feet.

As we turned a corner, my eyes caught sight of an unusual object lying on the pavement. A tape, abandoned and forgotten, called to me like a hidden secret waiting to be uncovered. Intrigued, I bent down to inspect this mysterious artifact, its plastic casing weathered by time and neglect.

The decision to pick up that tape marked a pivotal moment, an unspoken agreement between fate and a child’s curiosity. Clutched in my small hands, I felt the weight of anticipation and the promise of discovery. The tape seemed to hum with unseen energy, whispering secrets of a world waiting to be unveiled.

My brother and I made our way back home, the tape cradled carefully in my palm like a fragile butterfly. The anticipation was palpable as we navigated the familiar path, the surroundings transformed by the potential hidden within that cassette.

Upon reaching home, I wasted no time in placing the tape into the waiting jaws of our humble cassette player. The mechanical whirr as the tape came to life echoed through the room, a prelude to the magic that awaited. Little did I know that within those magnetic ribbons lay the key to a realm that would shape the rhythm of my life.

As the first notes of “Out of Time” reverberated through the speakers, something shifted in the air. The room became charged with an energy previously unknown, as if the very essence of Rock ‘n’ Roll had materialized within those four walls. Mick Jagger’s distinctive vocals (”Baby, baby, baby you’re out of time …”) and Keith Richards’ electrifying guitar chords danced through the air, weaving a sonic tapestry that ensnared my senses.

In that singular moment, I was transported to a realm where rebellion had a melody, and freedom had a beat. The music pulsed through my veins, a visceral experience that transcended the boundaries of age and understanding. Beside me, my brother mirrored the awe that mirrored my own; our eyes widened, and our spirits lifted on the wings of newfound discovery.

The infectious rhythm of The Rolling Stones’ anthem became the heartbeat of that transformative moment. It was not just a song; it was a revelation, an introduction to a world where individuality reigned, and conventionality bowed in deference to the raw power of Rock ‘n’ Roll.

From that day forward, the tape became a cherished relic, a totem of my initiation into a musical pilgrimage.I soon found myself not only collecting tapes but delving into the worlds of Rock ‘n’ Roll, purchasing albums like ‘Aftermath, and exploring the discographies of other legendary bands.

As the years rolled on, Rock ‘n’ Roll became a steadfast companion, a source of solace, rebellion, and unbridled joy. The tape that found its way into my hands on that fateful day became a talisman, a reminder that sometimes, destiny lies hidden in the most unexpected moments.

And so, 40 years later, my journey with Rock ‘n’ Roll continues, an odyssey sparked by a chance encounter with a tape in my hometown when I was just a kid. The echoes of “Out of Time” linger in my memory, a testament to the transformative power of music and the serendipity that weaves the threads of our lives into a symphony of unexpected beauty.

“You don’t know what’s going on
You’ve been away for far too long
You can’t come back and think you are still mine

You’re out of touch, my baby
My poor discarded baby
I said, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time.”

© Francesc Borrull, 2023