Music on My Mind

NOTE: If you have been reading my gibberish for a long time, like since the mid 2000's, you may have seen this before. If not, enjoy.

Music. Its something that’s a very personal thing to most of us. For some of us it defines us, shapes our feelings, becomes far more than just something that helps to get us through the day or background for our lives.

There are people who write for magazines that make a very good living as music critics. They listen to it, analyze it, form their opinions and then tell their readers whether or not something is good, mediocre, or whether it is shit.

There’s more to music than that, though, whether something is good or bad. Those two criteria are pretty basic but don’t cover the whole thing. Music, like any other artistic endeavor, is about feelings, location, a moment in time or a place, a whole spectrum of intangibles that are impossible to explain and damn hard to understand.

A song can mean different things at different times in different locations. A prime example of this has occurred in my own life. My musical tastes have always been in the classic rock-country-southern rock areas, with a taste of punk, jazz, and classical thrown into the mix for good measure. I try to be open minded about all kinds of music, but there are types and artists that I usually avoid like the plague because in my mind they aren’t worth wasting my time on.

Celine Dion was a prime example. I never really liked her music, thought it to be lame, mindless housewife music. Thought she did music that had nothing to do with me. This all changed one day a few years ago in the strangest of places at the strangest of times. I was in the Philippines, taking a ride with my sweetheart, her sister, and two friends of the family. It was 95 degrees outside, and we had just finished some shopping. The night before, my sweetheart, this woman that I love more than my own life and I had spent the night talking and making love. It was one of those nights when two people really feel like one person. Anyway, we were riding along, heading to a restaurant for some seafood. She had her head on my shoulder, our arms entwined, the air conditioner in the car was blasting, the sun was shining. As we are riding, our friend puts Celine in the CD player, and plays Beauty and the Beast, her duet with Peabo Bryson.

In the space of 30 seconds, unexplainable total clarity. This wasn’t lame, and it wasn’t some crap pop song. All of a sudden, this one song actually meant something to me, became important. I know it may sound cheesy and lame to someone reading this, but at that moment in time, a new meaning was discovered. Hearing those voices singing while having this incredibly beautiful woman who loves me more than I deserve close by my side made this song and this artist important in my life. Five years have passed since this happened, and I still love this song because it reminds me of that slice of time. I joke with my wife that she’s the beauty and I’m the beast, but the song had the same effect on her as well.

It’s about moments like this one and millions of others that help to transcend music in our lives. Its OK to read critics in music publications and online. Some of these critics are really good and letting you know what’s there, kind of an overview of what the particular artist is trying to say. What is not OK is to base your selection of music based solely on what these critics have to say.

If there is a particular artist you are fond of and the critics pan their latest work, chances are there may be something there that will appeal to you in some way anyway.