I was not ready to work on the dissertation this morning, so I thought that I might warm up a bit by considering the week’s subject (music) one more time. My love of music is a pleasure I take as a consumer and not a producer. To the great disappointment of both my ego and insecurity, I seem to have no skills as a musician. While I can sing tolerably, I do not feel I possess the vocal qualities of a skillful lead singer. Having watched a friend in high school with more swagger than talent embarrass himself (in my mind, not his) in front of our peers, I opted never to go down the road of having more musical desire than talent. Hence, I fancy myself a fan of popular music. Rock, electronica, classical, jazz, blues, rockabilly, tango, and other styles all appeal to me to greater or lesser degrees. These thoughts of music are at the forefront of my consciousness as my online music subscription just renewed and I was able to add a few more jewels to my collection. Today’s haul included some Underworld (Glam Bucket), Pet Shop Boys (Love etc.), Win Win (Interleave), Big Mamma Thornton (I’m Feeling Alright), and Morrissey. There is more electronica than anything else here, but I will own that; most of my listening these days occurs when I am working out at the gym and when I am writing. Having something upbeat suits these occasions. Clearly, I am still feeling a bit self-conscious if I must explain why I am favoring one genre of music.
Anyway, the sights beyond my window are filled with the evidence of spring. The purple locust is beginning to flower. In the yards beyond my own I see the rich green of new grass and trees leafing out for the first time in months. At this hour the sky is a hazy blue, not quite the color of a robin’s egg but lighter than a swimming pool in summer. Quite the lovely backdrop for a morning of writing I must say. And you, fair reader, what combination of senses describes your environs?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Never apologize for your musical taste, and I do not believe in guilty pleasures. If you like something, you like something. In general, I despise hair metal, but damn if a couple of those songs are not catchy as hell, really good pop songs.
ReplyDeleteI took in order piano maybe at five/six years old, trumpet from eight to twelve and guitar from fifteen to sixteen, but since I had a wandering eye, not much discipline, and sustained sleep interruption as a child, none of this stuck. I became somewhat proficient at trumpet with the fingering and required lip/breathing action, learned a handful of songs I could play sloppily on the guitar, and have absolutely no memory of my piano lesson, other than the huge vinyl roll out my instructor had on her floor of the piano keys.
The smells of wet, the smells of cut grass, alas the smells of spring are in the Midwest air. After weeks of blue skies, grey is the color of the last few days. But budding life everywhere, is one of the many great treats nature bestows.