Once a music dork, always a music dork

Seeing Ben Folds play, I felt a way I haven't in a long time. And as with most other intangible, non-political feelings I have, it's actually quite difficult to explain. But I'll try.

Those of you that know me personally, i.e., the vast majority of people that read this blog, know that I have a slight obsession with music. Being who I am, music has become a source of emotional expression for me, both in performance and experience. I literally get anxious and fidgety if I go too long without playing some sort of musical instrument, and I can't stand to drive my car without my stereo blasting my eclectic mix of MP3's.

As far as music performance goes, I've been in some sort of musical ensemble since I was roughly eight. There's something fulfilling about being a part of an entity working together to produce something bigger than its individual members. Yeah, I know it sounds cheesy, but I've had few experiences that can compare with the rush I get after finishing a performance and being met with genuine applause and admiration.

However, this feeling does not translate to many solo performances I've ever done. As you may or may not know, I spent my last few years of high school playing classical piano, going to recitals, competitions, etc. and for the most part, I absolutely despised it. Not to inflate my own ego, but as good as people would tell me I was, and as many awards/scholarships I won/was offered, I was absolutely loathe to do it. I felt dirty and bastardized playing in front of judges sitting there with notepads and pens, making marks for every wrong note I played or time I didn't use the pedal correctly, or used the wrong fingering sequence. They weren't listening to me for their enjoyment, they were listening to me so as to point out differences between my playing and what they saw as 'correct' playing. Something about that struck me as uncomfortable, and it wasn't for me. So I gave it up...much to the chagrin of my parents and piano teacher.

Along those lines, the only time I would feel worse than playing in front of judges would be when my parents would attempt to get me to play for company. Again, they weren't listening for the enjoyment of the song. They were listening so as to be able to show me off, much like when they offer our Jack Russell pieces of food in order to sit, speak, and roll over.

They had no comprehension of the effort involved in playing the music I played. They had no understanding of the brilliance of the people that wrote the music, or what drove me to want to learn it. All in all, it made me feel cheap.

However, I absolutely love playing for/with my friends, and hearing them play. There's a certain camaraderie, pride, and in some cases envy associated with it. But mostly it's just a sense of intense enjoyment.

There are very few people that understand getting goosebumps when a certain song plays, or laughing during a particularly virtuosic performance because the person is literally so good that it's comical, or the uncontrollable desire to air drum (or maybe that's just me). And personally, I tend to feel most at home around these people.

Like I said before, music is quite an emotional outlet for me, and it's much more pronounced during live performances. There's something about a musician that I admire performing his music with his band, with harmonies, good musicianship, and passion, along with an audience enjoying every note of it. It's an emotional rush for me. Not any particular emotion -- it's less refined than that. It's a feeling that makes me want to laugh, cry, scream, and smile all at the same time. I know that's not a very good explanation, but that's the good thing about this. If you get a similar feeling, I don't have to explain it to you. If you don't, you're probably not concerned enough about it to want it to be explained.

I’m sure I’ll get around to talking about the actual concert eventually, but I had to get that out of my system.