I’ve already written a bit about my musical indulgences this past Summer. I really did enjoy a lot of it. Some of it was really, well, different. Some of the lyrics finally sound tired and so awful that I just couldn’t listen. Some of the melodies are suddenly grating to my ears—as if they weren’t already. I did pick up a few new things. Kind of Blue by Mies Davis is one. I really like that. I found some new bluegrass too and it was very good. Weird, I suppose, to like so much different music.
A lot of it was, incidentally, because I did a trial membership on eMusic. It was pretty good for me because a lot of the bluegrass labels are considered ‘indie’ so that was a great find. I did eventually end up buying a year long membership and I am enjoying it greatly.
I’ve always liked music, but its sort of been something of a leisure activity. Rarely did I put anything on while I was working because I like listening to the radio, for one thing and lets face it: most stations don’t play that much music. That’s a bit irritating, actually, but that’s another post by someone with a little more rage built up about our current system of distributing music. I’m of a mind that it’s better than doing without or offering a patronage to musicians who catch your ear. (Probably cheaper too) But that’s just me.
One thing I do admire about musicians in general, however, is their dedication. These thoughts sort of blind sided me while I was thinking about all the dead musicians I’ve heard about. Curt Cobain’s Mama called it ‘that stupid club’ if I recall correctly and warned him ‘not to join’ it. There’ve been a great number of them join it, most by choking on their own vomit. I suppose it’s a side benefit they don’t think about much when they first sling on the guitar or pick up the microphone. You have to admire the kind of passion that moves someone to put themselves in a position to join that club.
But I’m a Christian in America so I can’t possibly understand that concept, can I?