Mourning the Soul of Music

Here's my chance to sound like an old grumpy man-despite my real age. Right now, I'm going to complain that the 'scene' wasn't what it used to be when I was younger. I am going to complain about how the music I grew up on has now vanished, replaced with mostly garbage and that nobody cares about the music anymore. But, more than that, I'm really heartsick that the simple art of listening to music is lost. I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to turning on some music to fill the silence when working on something else, yet, I relish the times I get to sit down, put on a pair of headphones and just close my eyes and do nothing else but listen to music. Better yet, I love listening to music live. I don't really need alot of lights, video and spectacle when a musician I really enjoy is performing.

Music is that important to me. It is something that can be consumed on its own--it is that rich. It is more than a condiment for daily life. It really is what gives me hope, and as Tim Robbins' character in "The Shawshank Redemption" puts it, music is something that can't be taken away since it resides within the human soul. So, when I see the absolute lack of respect for a musician pouring his guts performing, I get upset. When I see people give away something that can't be forcibly taken by others, I get depressed--dejected that some have no problem wasting such a valuable part of being a human.

Perhaps it is just the consequence of living in the age of the iPod, where music is available anything a battery is fully charged. There is no need to listen intently, savoring every moment because it is so fleeting, so hard to retrieve later on. I love to live as though music can be retained. The best part of listening to something I truly love is afterwards, when the music is so fresh in my mind it lasts for hours. This is really raw, concentrated emotion, the very framework of our souls that is left over after listening to music. Being able to listen to music anywhere and anytime is an untold curse. We can no longer enjoy an entire meal because the individual ingrediants have been left out. Yet, this is what we devour--empty representations of something valuable--hollow pieces of food, gaining no satisfaction, but getting all the taste. Missing the substance of what we are consuming, we go back for more. More taste, more sensation, yet never having our fill. The gluttony of sensuality--obese on what we can experience, but we are too distracted by the next thing to realize how truly emaciated and cadaverous we really are.