Clinton Begley: I blame the Velveteen Rabbit for just about everything.

Not political unrest, world hunger or the popularity of Justin Bieber, but primarily for turning me into a pack-rat. My folks used to read that story to me when I was little and I loved it. I still love it. But I am convinced it is to blame for my hoarders casting call eligibility.

Since I was very young, I’ve felt strong connections to material objects. Not in a covetous way, but in a way that seems to connect me with the past in ways that memory alone cannot. A recent Wall Street Journal article likened these connections to talismans this way: “We can use an object almost like a compass. If we’re feeling lost and directionless, we can go to it and the values it represents, and that helps us get our bearings.” I think that might be overselling it a bit, but the idea isn’t far off the mark.

Begley

Late in 2010, I undertook a project to purge items that I’ve amassed over the years that serve little or no purpose for me anymore beyond providing such a connection. Some things, frankly, are just junk I’ve accumulated out of habit and mean nothing to me. Others are things that undeniably transport me to a specific time and place. But I’ve reached a threshold where some of these things have become encumbrances. They must be purged. Mannequin heads — out. Bart Simpson “vehicle of destruction” skateboard — out. High-School love letters — fine, I’ll keep them. Box full of CDs from Quincy bands of yore — sweet find! You’re gonna have to loot them from my grave, which I guess, is sort of what my newest project is all about.

My compact-disc-overy reignited an idea I’d had years ago to zombify the corpses of Quincy’s  musical past and resurrect the tunage of broken up bands and embalm them in digital form for all to enjoy. Titled “My Dead Band,” the blog-style site features history, perspective and downloadable MP3 files from some of Quincy’s bands of the late ’90s and early ’00s. From the revered to the recondite, I have enough CDs cached to post a new downloadable album to www.mydeadband.com every day or two for several weeks. And that is exactly what I intend to do.

Having been involved in Quincy’s music scene during this time, it’s been awesome to rekindle memories through these 12cm spinning talismans. With over 500 hits in the first week, apparently others feel the same way. But the rewarding part of the experience has been receiving the various messages, comments and emails from the members of these bands and their fans about the memories these tracks have rekindled in them. I’ve always known that music was the true catalyst for reliable time travel. But I never considered that when the history of the music is intertwined with your own saga, every sonic journey is an opportunity to bring your friends along for the ride.

In light of this discovery, it seems fortuitous and fitting that as my otherwise inconsequential exercise in relinquishing material possessions transforms into a preparation for my move away from Quincy next month, I am able to relive and share with others so many joyous experiences that in many ways have come to define my role and existence here.

And although I continue to steadfastly purge and consolidate belongings in preparation for my departure, I am simultaneously grateful to the Velveteen Rabbit for providing me and others with this link to our collective musical past.

Clinton Begley

• mydeadband.com will be updated as often as possible with stories, facts, recollection and patent nonsense about the “dead” bands of Quincy’s past. Comments, corrections and contributions are welcome.