I am churning this copy over music, specifically the undulating classics that are 80’s and 90’s RnB. There’s no combination that triumphs writing and good serenous music. Not even Kenyan girls and their beautiful colossal foreheads brush remotely close (ruffled feathers he-he).
The sultry vocals of Mary J Blige, 112, Boys II Men, Keith Sweat, TLC, Usher, Aaliyah, the immensely beautiful Whitney Houston and the other posse croon in my ear, expediting the voyage of words from my head to paper, egging them on. This way, they gush graciously, with flair. This could be one of few instances where I’d let a man croon things in my ear. This is where machos get off my back, time travel and make fire with rocks at this point.
There comes a time in everyone’s life; when the fork erects on the road. Where you get to the rubicon. Where you have to choose what music to listen to. The great taste and craft of our forefathers, that age with the mien of fine wine laying back, trusting you to make the right choice. Or the more ubiquitous contemporary sound that flood and smother human existence intimidately staring you in the eye.
Suffice to say I went with the latter. A tranquil realm where songstresses lay their fondness bare, effusively professing their love or hurt for/to another person. Where men are a tad more vulnerable and actually actively try to woo their prospect. Where chaps are more subjective and less misguided on being gung-ho. Since like their female counterparts they too have the essential; feelings and blood coursing through their veins and not the overbearing tough as nails propagation.
Okay, I admit. You won’t find me in the streets fervently singing out 112’s Cupid. Palms spread out, as I slowly grab for air underneath the pouring rain and muffled thunder. Clothes drenched anticipating for a damsel to open her window and hear me out. That is a little over the top but then is it though for the pursuit of happiness.
I got myself an acoustic guitar almost 3 years ago, my learning pattern has been lucklustre. I’ve been indolent on learning to play it. It sits in it’s bag wondering why she was bought to sit in the dark longing for its owner to grab it and strum or pluck it’s strings. I’ve resolved to learn it in the next three months, to add a little item to my repertoire. And no, it’s not for the girls.
I hold conviction there’s a way music moulds character, it helps explain a person’s subtleties. What explains yours? What music do y’all listen to? Put me in to some good eccentric shit.