I’ve heard a lot of people say this about sex, and in my experience it’s true: as you get older, you may not have it as much but it tends to be a hell of a lot more intense when you do.
Music’s a lot like that for me too. It’s always been in my life, if I’m lucky, it always will be, but when I was younger I was a real collector of it. I had a lot, I listened to a lot, I read about it a lot, I saw so many live shows I literally can’t tell you how many or who all I’ve seen. It’s easier for me to remember who I haven’t seen. Not surprisingly I guess, I married someone who was the same way, though our tastes varied wildly.
Somewhere along the line, I lost that urgency for getting my hands on all the music I could find, knowing what new album was due and who was coming to town and poring over minutiae in liner notes and interviews. That zeal to consume it all. It coincided with aging but I am not sure it was a result of it. While I still like all kinds of music, even stuff I’m supposed to be too old for, my interest in the chase, the completionist fetish to seek out new artists or trends for the sake of adventure, is just not there.
My emotional connection to much of the music that does come into my life has deepened to an extent I seldom experienced before, though. The impact of connection to artists or new songs and genres, and the places those connections take me, the new sounds I discover as a result of those journeys, well, it’s just an entirely different organic experience, much more of a relationship. Like getting to know a new lover or moving to a new house, going to a new town. It’s intense, and whatever made it happen, I’m thankful.
My latest new flame isYoungblood Blues, the latest from Alynda Lee Segarra andHurray for the Riff Raff. I don’t know where you NOLA peeps been hiding these folks away but damn, they’re good. I can’t stop listening to this album.