An odd ode to a non-musician

It's one thing to be an odd person and another thing completely to be an odd person and realize it.

I fall in the latter category and cannot apologize. I can only state that I was just made this way.

This oddness manifests itself in many ways. My interest in music is one. And it's not the types of music that make me odd. I listen to '80s metal and rock, classic country and modern Texas/Americana music. Those are all popular enough. What's weird is how important music is to me.

I've not played an instrument since the flutaphone in the 4th grade. I remember being jealous of my classmates who got to participate in a program that I presume was like Suzuki strings and they got to learn to play the violin. The rest of us just plodded along on our white-and-red flutaphones playing "Hot Cross Buns" over and over.

That was my one and only experience playing music. Missed the window for band after switching schools. For the rest of my life, I've been a consumer of music. And what a consumer I have been.

Somewhere in the bowels of this blog is a list of concerts I can remember attending. And that didn't include in the last four years, when my number of Texas/Americana shows has skyrocketed. Granted, it's been a few different artists at a lot of shows (Bruce Robison, Kelly Willis, Slaid Cleaves, Lost Immigrants have all seen my face multiple times).

I have a lot of music (enough to fill a 60GB iPod) and don't mind buying it. I've actually bought music after getting it free online. I attend concerts and buy merch.

Two minor asides on these topics: 1) one of my friends is befuddled that I would go see someone more than once. He can't understand why after I've seen the artist live would I want to go see them again. For me, every show is unique. They typically play a different mix of songs, the sound is different, the musical arrangement's sometimes different, the venue is different. Can't fully explain it and so I won't. 2) Buying merch is part of the fun of going to a show, but when you're looking for ultra-fat-man sized T-shirts, you can pretty much write it off. There's nothing worse than convincing yourself that 2X will fit and getting home to find out it will fit a 2X teenaged girl.

Music in so many ways affects me. In high school, I used to know a lot of song lyrics. I could come up with a lyric for almost any situation. I once considered trying to find a way to turn that into a career (like choosing songs for specific scenes in movies) but I probably wisely let that dream fly away.

Still, there are songs that I can listen to over and over and over. And I still can't fully explain that. Other people seem less obsessed with music than me. Many simply don't even think about it. So why am I so odd?

Maybe it's because I have such an appreciation for what goes into a good song. Good writing is so important. Most people don't know this but as a writer, I cannot make myself read fiction any more. Somewhere along the line I stopped and haven't been able to go back. And I pretty much think to myself, well anyone can make up fiction. I *could* do it. I just don't. And so I stick to non-fiction. As a journalism major, I have a super-appreciation for the ability to tell the real story.

Yet it is obvious to me as it probably is to readers of this post that songs are typically fictional. And you know what? That doesn't bother me. I think because I see songwriting as another echelon. Whereas anyone can make up a story, a songwriter (usually) has to make it catchy and most importantly, set it to a melody. And then we're back to my lack of musical talent.

I have no musical talent and only the greatest envy of those who do have it. They can make it seem so easy. I'm one of those people who sings along and play air guitar and drums during the same song, shifting between guitar licks and drum paradiddles with no regard for continuity or accuracy.

In the meantime, I have been writing about music. I write feature stories about musicians for a non-profit music series that brings Texas singer-songwriters (and some who don't fit that mold from time to time) to a city I used to live in. And it's very rewarding for me in many ways. I feel like I can actually do what I do best within an industry I love but would never attempt to make money in. Because that's when it stops being fun.

This allows me to hold my own among creative people whom I admire and no one else tells me how to do it. It's pure freedom that I revel in.

And while no one else really gets that part of me aside from my wife, who shares at least a little of my fanaticism, that's OK. I'm just odd like that.