You know, it was said that the great comic W.C. Fields despised music.
It was said Fields’ aversion to music was rooted in the religious songs his abusive father sang; that he couldn’t listen to any tune or lyric without reverting back to a fearful and nauseous childhood state.
It makes you wonder, how many artists out there actually hate certain forms outside their own personal creative purview (music, film, literature, theater, photography, the fine arts [painting, sculpture, etc.]).
And while I don’t have an aversion to any particular art form, if I had to rank my most cherished indulgences, I would probably place music somewhere near the bottom.
Again, it’s not that I don’t like music, I just get bored with music. I will really dig a particular piece of music, or a band, or singer, for a few weeks, until I get sick of it; very much like eating too much candy or cake; and I will more than likely never listen to that music again.
I will often go for weeks without listening to music (intentionally listening that is). But, if I had to go a day without reading literature, or watching a film, I would probably go into convulsions. And while I don’t think there’s a deep, dark reason behind why I feel the way I feel about music, a la W.C. Fields, I often wonder why I don’t have that emotional devotion to music that many people do.
The fact is there is only one album that has ever truly meant anything to me, and that’s Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue. It’s the only album that still stirs me every time I hear it; and I’ve probably heard it hundreds of times over the years.
