Do you remember your earliest musical memory; the first time you heard and recognized music as more than just some organized sounds? I remember being confused as to how melodies worked and why the A-B-Cs sounded better sung than read. Of course at the time, I had no idea what a melody even was, but the fact that I was hearing and thinking about what made a musical hook catchy made me realize that music was something that I wanted to hear more of.
Like many others, I got started down the path to musical enlightenment by my parents. My dad listened to music at home and in the car. If I was around, I listened too. While he always had his stable of classics, I was enthralled by the cheesy adult-contemporary hits that were in heavy rotation on his radio. I recall being fascinated with how the sounds were arranged to make an affecting piece of music. I didn’t think too hard about it but, I knew what I thought sounded good, even if I didn’t know why.
By the time I made it to third grade or so, I was listening to pop radio on my own and jamming to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 show. So at that point, whether or not I knew why I liked what I liked, my tastes and preferences were dictated by whatever chart-topping songs were being played on the radio. It wasn’t until I reached middle school that I began forming my own tastes and preferences, playing a more active role in seeking out music that I liked and finally, knowing why I liked it.
The big breakthrough and the spark that ignited my fiery passion for music in general came in sixth grade. We had a unit in choir class devoted entirely to the Beatles. This was my first real introduction to the Fab Four and I ended up getting in pretty deep. Their music was undeniably catchy; I could bob my head, tap my feet and sing along—it was a revelation.
Soon after, a friend and I both started exploring our dads’ old record collections and saturating our psyches with classic rock and oldies hits. As the years wore on, I continued to straddle the line between past and present, finding pleasure in the old music that influenced the new and appreciating truly original work. I just dig music—that’s all there is to it.
Like many others, I got started down the path to musical enlightenment by my parents. My dad listened to music at home and in the car. If I was around, I listened too. While he always had his stable of classics, I was enthralled by the cheesy adult-contemporary hits that were in heavy rotation on his radio. I recall being fascinated with how the sounds were arranged to make an affecting piece of music. I didn’t think too hard about it but, I knew what I thought sounded good, even if I didn’t know why.
By the time I made it to third grade or so, I was listening to pop radio on my own and jamming to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 show. So at that point, whether or not I knew why I liked what I liked, my tastes and preferences were dictated by whatever chart-topping songs were being played on the radio. It wasn’t until I reached middle school that I began forming my own tastes and preferences, playing a more active role in seeking out music that I liked and finally, knowing why I liked it.
The big breakthrough and the spark that ignited my fiery passion for music in general came in sixth grade. We had a unit in choir class devoted entirely to the Beatles. This was my first real introduction to the Fab Four and I ended up getting in pretty deep. Their music was undeniably catchy; I could bob my head, tap my feet and sing along—it was a revelation.
Soon after, a friend and I both started exploring our dads’ old record collections and saturating our psyches with classic rock and oldies hits. As the years wore on, I continued to straddle the line between past and present, finding pleasure in the old music that influenced the new and appreciating truly original work. I just dig music—that’s all there is to it.
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