randomWalks

[...] Chalk it up to early mid-life crisis if you like, but whenever I played piano as a kid I imagined myself actually *in* one of the bands I was pretending to play along with. Although playing alone gave me pleasure, it was at least in part the pleasure of anticipating the day when I'd do this for other people. Chalk it up to the principle of social currency, but it's the connections that matter. Playing a particularly intense organ section last night, I felt the reality of what I've been talking about all these years: the music itself is just a medium for interaction. It's an excuse for a kind of intimacy between the members of the band, and between the band and the audience.

In a sense, it doesn't matter what the music sounds like or what the lyrics say. These are just the agreements we make in order to enter the state of consciousness and connection, together. (That's why we want our rock or hiphop stars to have some sort of integrity or hipness - so we feel safe letting go. We don't want to find out they're sold out or molesting babies.) For some, I'm sure the music we were playing was, no doubt, too dark or loud or perhaps even too gentle for them to take the leap into sharing that space with us. Not every invitation is right for everyone. [...]