I know I run the risk of sounding like Madonna (thanks, Norah!) Rihanna with a title like this (I think her’s was “Please Don’t Stop the Music”). But I’m forging ahead anyway – you can’t copyright a title :).
A couple weeks ago I was coming into work and, like a lot of New Yorkers, I had my earphones in taking in some tunes. (At a minimum, most New Yorkers are listening to an iPod and reading a book. There are many variations on this.) As I got in the elevator I noticed the woman beside me was taking out her earphones as I was. There was actually a sense of disappointment in the air; like someone had injected a little reality. She laughed a little when I remarked at how lame it was to stop the music – especially when it’s good.
I saw a commercial lately that illustrated just this. The ad shows a young guy with tattoos and earrings rocking out to some headbanger tunes right up until he sits at his desk, removes the earphones, and the image changes to him as conservative businessman in a suit.
Something about music takes us out of reality and into an amazing universe created by the artist. I believe this is a good thing.
Last summer Olivia and I drove to New York City from Nashville several times (15-16 hours). The last time we made the trip, we bought the Sara Bareilles album, Little Voice, and played it relentlessly: there and back and while we were driving around the City. I can’t tell you how crazy it is for one of those songs to come up on shuffle now and be taken back exactly to how I felt on that trip. If I close my eyes I am in the car driving over the Queensboro bridge in our Honda Fit with the windows rolled down.
How does music do that? More importantly, how can I make music that affects people like that?
Does music do this for you?