Sunday, March 14, 2010

.001 = qualifications

You may be wondering why i am starting a blog about music.

  • i have no intellectual swagger, nor an extensive knowledge of music history. I don't know the order of release of Rubber Soul, the White Album, Abbey Road, or Let It Be.
  • my vocabulary stops at "puerile," so i am no music reviewer.
  • i have no technical knowledge, nor formal training.
  • i just can't seem to get into Sigur Ros, David Byrne, Flaming Lips, Bob Dylan, Sonic Youth, Lou Reed, Pink Floyd, or My Bloody Valentine.

This latter point may, in the view of man, disqualify me from all else.

I do however appreciate the effect these artists have had on the artists i do like.

Why have i taken the time to start a blog, and to keep it on life support for the rest of my life?

Because i love music.

I love music itself...

not for the emotions or memories it conjures when i hear a song (although sometimes it is hard to disconnect)

nor for the status, credibility, bragging rights, or incessant "talking rights" during a concert (yes, i'm talking to you L.A.)

When i hear a song i love, i just want to close my eyes, and let my head sink back and take it all in.

I love sound.

I love flaws and subtle nuances - how you can hear a singer taking a breath, how an amp's tremolo will hiss and pulse, or how the pound of a bass drum in my headphones makes my inner ear "tingly".

I love the flow of an album, but i love a single song.

I love how a song transforms and mutates in a live performance.

I love the process of making music - how sound comes out of speakers and hits your ears, or how an amp interacts with a microphone.

I love guitar effects, and amps, microphones, strange instruments, detuning, room ambience, and mixing boards.

I love how, in spite all of the greatest production attempts, a man stomping on the floor and playing a ratty old guitar on a porch can communicate so much more.

I love soul, and how we connect through music.

I could go on.

That said, i generally prefer the solace in quiet.

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