Earlier this year I wrote about my band, Fox and the Hounds, and “My Year in Music.”
The truth is, if I had to site the three things that defined my past 19 months most,
things that, in many ways, saved me from getting lost in a dark abyss, they would be:
3. My music.
If my friends and family have kept me safe and happy, and my writing has kept me grounded and conscious, my music has fed my soul, giving color to my life.
In terms of music, I have made a conscious effort to see as many live shows as possible, exposing myself to new artists and genres of all kinds, and I have had some had some really cool things happen.
Most meaningful of all, I have started to create my own music, once again.
I have been collaborating with a band-mate on original songs and the words and melodies are pouring out of me. I am blessed to have a phenomenally talented partner and some awesomely gifted and supportive collaborators. Music has become my special charm, this thing that I always have with me, tucked in my pocket; a secret that only I know is there at all times. I find inspiration in everything, now.
In the pulse of the traffic; in old songs; in the butterflies dancing in my stomach; in dreams.
Music has infiltrated life in other awesome ways.
I got my favorite album on vinyl.
“I wanna strum upon your strings
and make you cry love, cry out loving.”
(Note: I also have a live video of my aforementioned amazing guitar player killing this song as I try to keep up with the vocals, but I am being kind and not posting it to be viewed in 55% of the countries across the world. Because yes, that happened to day, too. Woo!)
We have been listening to the heck out of this record.
Our dance parties have grown, just as we have.
And then, finally, a live music show.
But this wasn’t just any live music show.
We were lucky enough to see Andy Suzuki and the Method slay it at World Cafe Live. Even cooler? I got to see the show with some of our closest friends who just so happen to be Andy’s cousins, so we got to hang with the talent himself.
Andy is a performer. He is one of those musicians who is in a class of his own; he is charismatic and dedicated, but also fun. He has soaring, seemingly effortless vocals, several harmonicas, plays more instruments than I could count and had more passion than could be contained in the small venue.
My friend and I texted a bit during the show.
“Is it totally different for you to watch this as an artist who creates music?” he asked.
And the answer is that yes, I think it is, as I appreciated every single second of the magic that Andy created last night. I don’t know how to classify him exactly; he is a hip singer/songerwriter with soulful ballads, funk, soul, dance moves, a fierce falsetto and lyrics that sound like poetry. He is, quite literally, a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. I did not want the show to end.
So much fun.
And I was a total fangirl. I bought his t-shirt. He autographed my arm.
As it is Friday morning, I am not sure where the rest of my week in music will take me…
except that this morning, I will watch, proudly, as my daughter and her class perform for their last Shabbat as Pre-Schoolers, to an original song based on Uptown Funk.
I would categorize this moment–this feeling right now–as being highly emotionally charged.
But isn’t that what music is all about?
I will say it again:
Music has fed my soul and brought color to my life.
I am sure that some more songs will come spilling out of me today.
I am sure that I will dance party with my kids, and, later, perhaps my friends.
And I know that, as always, for music, I will be endlessly, eternally, ever so grateful.