the psychology behind loving a musician
…isn’t easy to explain.
But if you want to read a really sweet story, check out Sarah’s experience at Jason Lytle’s Other Music performance. It might be best to read her Grandaddy eulogy first. Both entries are long, but every word counts. Every word. I’m watching…YOU AREN’T READING, I CAN FEEL IT!
[stands on the side while tapping foot]
Back? Well. I can’t force you to read it, but it’s worth it. She put into words feelings and ideas I could never do so eloquently. I especially liked this description:
bq. Grandaddy, and Jason Lytle in particular, possesses a special quality of self-expression that is haunting in its sadness and riveting in its openness. His modest, plaintive voice drives right to the truth of whatever he’s singing about, the likes of which nobody has ever equalled.
I can nothing to add to that besides…[nod] Can you hear it? I hope you can. But if you can’t, that’s okay too.
Sarah’s blog entry documenting the ups and downs (well, more ups) of every emotional punch she felt while anticipating to see Jason perform, and then seeing him perform, and then seeing him go hit me hard. I could relate. Maybe you can relate to. Have you ever loved one artist so much that maybe you looked like a wacko for doing so (not that Sarah does!…which is good, because I’m afraid I come off that way sometimes) and its just this feeling that you can’t really explain, but you feel it and…well, if you’re Sarah then you actually can describe it quite clearly and beautifully. But as well as she may write, it’s not something you can really understand unless you’ve felt it, which is something that applies to many emotions. “Obsessing” over a musician may not be as universal as other things, but she’s not the only one, nor am I, nor are some of you.
I’m sure more than one person out there has looked at my Even obsession with a critical eye. There are many things wrong with me, but I would place the intense music interests at the bottom of that list. I used to be paranoid about appearing creepy or strange or…I don’t know. Creepy was it, mainly. But I know I’m not. I’m afraid that people may get the wrong impression, not that I feel like I’m actually doing something wrong.
This may or may not be an important quote from Sarah’s post:
bq. I want you to know the weight of this love, at the risk of sounding like a total freak…So, here it is: I know the sound of Jason Lytle’s voice better than I know anything else in my life.
I think it’s important. And I don’t think she sounds like a freak.
Reading Sarah’s post made me feel like I was peering too closely into someone’s heart, but I don’t suppose she would’ve written it and put it in a public blog if she didn’t mean for other people to read it. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable writing something like that, but then I couldn’t anyway. It’s nearly impossible for me to put those things into words, things that I tend to express as “Ahhhhh!” and “Muuuhhh!” and [keyboard smash], and even incomprehensible ramblings such as those are relegated to password protected sites where few people can have their IQs lowered by my incohesive-ness…somethingorother. I have to learn how to write or learn how to feel things in an understandable manner.
Or maybe not. I’m flawed in a million ways.
Thanks to Sarah for making my day a little brighter.