I mean really...sit and think about it. How did man go from some cave-dweller to a composer? Was it some great moment like when the first man discovered fire? I imagine it began with singing..as people began to explore their vocalizations, of course someone would sing. They'd imitate sounds they heard in nature. Then the percussion from nature provided the constant beat and then that beat was built upon..the rest is history.
Trying to disect the origins of music is like trying to figure out which part of your turd was the last bite. It's just something you let be...let develop..let fester in your brain. If you force it, you miss the point. Music can elevate your mood, reduce stress...even more so than sex...and release more chemicals into your brain to signal love, compassion, empathy, joy, excitement, and relaxation than any drug on the planet. The key to kicking a wicked drug addiction is music--its a replacement therapy. The right music, tuned to the right portion of your brain...it's medicine to the sick tissue. It's transcending time, influencing decisions, and craving all of your attention. The correct speed can generate euphoric dopamine rushes, curb appetite, signal adrenaline responses, and cause the listener to quite literally fall in love with the atmosphere. You can always tell the junkies. They walk with a certain swagger that curtails the beat in their head, constantly propelling them forward, constantly the soundtrack to every moment and movement in their lives.
I am a junkie. I cannot go more than an hour in my day without listening to some form of music. My weapon of choice is electronic. But to call it something as simple as "electronic" puts it in such a tight little box...and if there's anything this music is, its not tight or diminishing. It opens my mind, frees my thoughts and creates a high unlike anything I've ever experienced. And I've experienced a lot in my 27 years on this planet. But nothing like this. Nothing like being physically and mentally cured by an auditory response to noise in an organized fashion. I cannot live without it. House, techno, tech-house, minimal, old, new, obscure, all of it, I cannot get enough. I am a junkie. I am an addict. I LIVE FOR THIS MUSIC. But its not just the music...its my entire lifestyle. I am an explorer, an enthusiast for experience, constantly craving something new and challenging to expand the parameters of my tiny existence on this giant spinning rock in space. Music connects me to the other like-minded people out there. Its like a secret handshake...we can spot each other, we cling to each other..we depend on each other for survival. The tribe of music encompasses everyone from all walks of life. We are, in an essence the meaning of life. I've found a purpose. I've found comfort. I could die alone but with Jamie Jones or Seth Troxler...or any one of the hundred or so DJ's controlling my final soundtrack, I'd feel as though I'm united with the entire galaxy.
How did I get to this point? How did I become so dependent? Does it matter? Not really, not as soon as the music starts. I can go for hours, my heart and brain provide all of the nourishment my body needs to constantly move to the beat. Its the runner's high times infinity. Its beyond any experience I will ever have. I'm a junkie...I just can't stop myself.
Which brings me to how the notion of a self-fulfilling prophecy intertwines with this music. I cannot help but feel incredibly happy, focused, and energetic with I listen to certain songs.
I've totally lost my train of thought and realize how completely pointless my trying to explain how I feel about music is....shit, you either get it or you don't. I don't need to sell anyone on it. I certainly don't need to sell myself on it.
Fuck that was some good bud.
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