Rare examples of music I find hard to bear.

However much I love music there are occasions when I find it particularly hard to stomach.  Even if the song being played is one I love. 

I am thinking specifically of noisy neighbours who may play loud, intrusive music at socially unacceptable hours.  You may love the song with a passion, but if it is pumping out at 2.30am and you have work the next day it can rapidly lose its charm.  I actually find a level of conflict within myself at these times, as I can appreciate someone else loving music and wanting to play it loud and dance to it, but when it affects my life (and sleep) then I am less tolerant.  I am much more willing to put up with loud music from neighbours during the day, even if it is very intrusive and loud in my own house.  I have a personal policy of never playing loud music past 9 at night and often will slip on the headphones at a much earlier hour than this.  I’d hate to force my music on someone else and make them feel the frustrations and discomfort I have occasionally felt.

Another time I struggle with music is when it is played when I am on hold on the telephone.  To hear the same endless cycles of music slowly drives me insane and if the song has been adapted in any way to make it more ’phone friendly’ then my tolerance is pretty much zero.  To hear a much loved and cherished song mangled in such a brutal way offends my musical nature and I have to restrain myself from berating the operator, when they answer my call, for their companies heinous crimes against art and feeling.

Muzak in lifts is another bugbear although fortunately for me, based in the UK, I think it is more of an American phenomenon.  This doesn’t stop shops (notably supermarkets) playing music of a similar ilk whilst I peruse their aisles and it takes a great deal of self restraint and inner strength to not take my trolley and go careening down the aisles, knocking old ladies and tins of bean flying as I make my hasty exit.

Finally, music on adverts can be particularly upsetting.  When I hear a song I love and which moves me deeply being used to sell a car, a burger or some other product, then a small part of me dies inside.  To think I used to sit with my stomach aching with emotion or my legs jiggling with barely contained rhythmic spasm and then that same song is the backdrop to gaudy flashy images and ‘shouty’ slogans exhorting me to buy more of whatever product is being advertised, leaves a sour taste in my mouth so overpowering my mouth almost puckers at the thought.

I love music, I mean it truly is my life blood and one of the reasons I enjoy life so much and yet there are times, like the ones I’ve mentioned here, where it is intrusive or cheapened so much that I’d consider foregoing it just this once in the interests of art and integrity.  If only the neighbours or advertising execs felt the same way.

Finding that musical sparkle.

Have you ever been to a gig and found that the support act has been as good, if not better than the main act?  I’m guessing it’s not that uncommon really, but when it does happen I get a thrill from finding a new band and from seeing them in their early touring days and when they are most fresh and raw.

I discovered one of the bands that has become very dear to me over the years in just this way.  In fact I discovered this band by proxy, but my point is still valid.  My brother and father had been to see Chris de Burgh in concert and came home raving about the support act, called Ezio.  Ezio are a band who hail from Cambridge, who played acoustic guitars on their first album in quite a percussive style, almost as if they are chopping at the guitar as they strum. Believe me, it is much better than I can describe here.  Ezio Lunedei is the main songwriter and Booga is the awe inspiring lead guitarist.  I bought their debut album ‘Black Boots on Latin Feet‘ on cassette and promptly wore it out by overplaying it and and then it was the first album on CD I owned when I started to buy that music format.  I then had a tradition for many years of using their album to christen any new audio equipment I bought.  That's how good it is!  It is one of those rare albums where every track is brilliant and from the album opener, to the final notes of ‘Angel Song’ I listen in ecstasy.  Needless to say it comes highly recommended. 



Years later I had the pleasure of seeing Jewel in concert at the Royal Albert Hall and the equal pleasure of hearing music from both of her support acts that night.  They were a rarity in that both support acts were excellent, rather than just one impressing you and the other leaving you cold.  These acts were Rosie Thomas and Steve Poltz.  Rosie had this most endearing speaking voice that sounded almost childlike and yet when she sung she sounded warmer and richer and more soulful.  She accompanied herself on an acoustic guitar and held the audience in the palm of her hands.  Steve Poltz also played acoustic guitar and managed to be hilariously funny at the same time as performing incredibly moving music.  I quickly snapped up both artists albums and have listened to them extensively ever since.

My final support act gem was a more established act, but one I wasn’t expecting to see and whose music I loved.  To say I was excited when I heard he was the support act would be an understatement.  My wife and I went to see the Foo Fighters at the O2 and when we walked in I started to see leaflets saying ‘Serj Tankian Wants You’.  I was curious what this related to as I love Serj and his previous band System of a Down, but wasn’t expecting to see a sign announcing him as support!  When he came on stage and played music from his new album ‘Elect the Dead’ I yelled and cheered almost as much as I did later for the Foo Fighters.  For me it was like having two headline acts and elevated the evening to heights I will never forget.

Support acts are often discounted and some members of the audience even come late so they can miss them and just see the main act.  But this is short sighted, as the small acts you discount today may well be the big acts you love tomorrow and wouldn’t we all love to say we saw a band when they were just starting out?  Live music is so powerful and whilst there are some dodgy support acts out there, the few rare gems hidden amongst the rough more than make up for the one or two dodgy acts that you have to sit through to find that musical sparkle.

Forging a Golden Heart in Vienna.

Some music will always be linked to a particular time or event in your life and this can be a good or bad thing depending on the circumstances. 

Mostly I think it is a good thing and like the connections made with the sense of smell, when you hear a piece of music it can conjure up a range of memories and emotions that would otherwise be lost to you.

One brief example of a bad connection for me is ‘Spanish Train’ by Chris de Burgh.  As a child I loved this song with a passion.  I revelled in the drama of the story being told in the lyrics and felt my young body being moved by the impact of the chorus.  Sadly this changed after it was playing at the same time we had a car crash (sadly a different crash to the one mentioned in ‘Changing my mood with music’) and although I still like this song, it will never feel quite the same way again.

But more importantly I have far more positive connections with music to draw upon than bad.  One key connection for me is with Mark Knopfler’s album ‘Golden Heart’.  This had just been released and I purchased my copy of it on the way to the airport for a weeks visit with some friends who lived in Vienna.  I played this album a lot during my stay and it has now become the soundtrack to the memories I created there.

When I hear the album now I can picture myself sat in that Vienna apartment's front room, with it’s high ceilings and Bavarian styling.  I used to sit with my host and play chess listening to this album and I can still picture the angle I looked out of the window at the world passing by.

Golden Heart album cover.

One particular track on this album immediately takes me back to a walking tour we took of the town and the stunning architecture and statues that abound in Vienna.  I saw a statue of a man called Rudiger and there is a song on the album of the same name.  They will be forever linked in my mind.  The fact that the track ‘Rudiger’ is a brooding, emotional song only emphasised the serious, artistic feel of this city.

That Vienna is a city suffused with music, all be it of a mostly classical nature, only further strengthens the links to music in my mind.  Now, when I play ‘Golden Heart’ I think of Vienna, which then leads onto the memory of a Mozart concert I saw there where the performers were all in period dress.  There’s not many people who can connect Mark Knopfler with Mozart in this way!

Belvedere Palace, Vienna.

I often listen to music as I read and may play a new album repeatedly at the same time as I work my way through a book.  In this way, for example, the Dalai Lama’s autobiography ‘Freedom in Exile’ will always be linked with Def Leppard’s album ‘Slang’ and if I read or play one, then I will immediately think of the other.

The brains capacity to make these connections is a wonderful thing and ensures that everyone’s interaction with music will be unique and individual.  Music doesn’t merely stand alone to move or influence us, but becomes part of the rich tapestry that is our very mindset and being and I love it’s impact in my life all the more for this reason.

TV themes that keep you coming back for more.

TV theme tunes are designed to stick in the mind and prepare you for the upcoming program, yet there are a certain few that when they start, kick off a little thrill of excitement and begin to mean more to you than just a simple TV theme song.  This could be because the songs/tunes themselves are so good or it could be because you are anticipating an action packed, exciting TV program.

One theme that immediately springs to mind is for the Formula 1 coverage on the BBC.  When that famous bassline from Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’ kicks in you almost get a surge of adrenaline.  The band wrote this song with no thought of a motor sport in mind and yet it seems to complement it perfectly, to the extent that I missed it when the coverage was done by another network and I was pleased when it returned years later.

Another one I adore is the theme for ‘Six Feet Under’.  This is a great piece of music in it’s own right and when those first chiming notes are played a grin plasters itself across my face and I sit back knowing some high class TV is on the way.  It was written specifically for the show and the music matches the opening sequence images perfectly, even to the extent of slowing down and speeding up at the right moments.  This is theme music as art.

The music for Dexter also stands out for me.  It feels kind of discordant initially, but the bells occasionally ringing in the background sound like an alarm clock and considering this is played over a morning/breakfast sequence this is pretty apt.  Due to the thrilling nature of the show you can’t help but get a little tingle of expectation when the opening music starts and as this is a unique piece of music you will always get that whenever you hear it played.  I am less likely to play this as a piece of music on it’s own, but matched with the opening sequence it hit’s the nail on the head.

I love the opening music for Scrubs as well.  It is short, jaunty, irreverent and full of fun, much the like the show itself.  It is also extremely catchy and will have you repeating ‘I’m no superman’ to yourself over and over even when the show has finished.  The track by Lazlo Bane was the perfect choice and again stands up as a song in it’s right.  I’m more than happy to play this at odd moments and, perhaps due to the connection with the comedy in the show, it always puts a smile on my face.

Like I’ve said, TV theme music is meant to be catchy or evocative, but some shows seem to have taken it to another level and the artistry involved elevates it above mere filler or incidental music.  I guess it is an art form in itself to be able to convey so much about a show in a short space of time and the sign of a good TV theme song is that it often leaves you wanting more.

A mesmerized audience.

One live experience that sticks in my mind, and which I want to share with you, is when I saw Ralph McTell many years ago at The Hazlitt Theatre in Maidstone.

A friend of mine, who was introducing me to a variety of blues and folk music, rung up one night and said he had a spare ticket for the gig and did I want to go?  I’d never heard of Ralph McTell before, but I thought ‘why not’, it would be a good evening out and an evening of live music beats a night in on my own any day.

We got to the gig in good time and I realised as we were shown to our seats that we were seated in the front row, dead centre.  The auditorium gradually filled up and my friend and I chatted about McTells career and his music in general.  Then the lights dimmed and the man himself walked on stage and that is when the evening took an unexpected turn.

Up to this point I was used to gigs where people clapped and sung along and there was the customary applause between songs.  But this gig rapidly showed itself to be something different.  As Ralph spoke and introduced his music people laughed at his jokes and appreciated some back story to his songs, but then as soon as he started playing everyone, and I mean everyone, became spellbound.  I’ve known nothing like it, it was almost like group hypnosis.  As he would play his song there would be silence from the audience.  Looking around you could see everyone was in awe and had a look of almost rapture on their faces.  Then when the song finished everyone erupted into wild applause.   I mean, everyone was REALLY enthusiastic for this unassuming man, playing in this unassuming venue. Then, like a switch being flicked, the next song started and everyone immediately hushed.  There was no smattering of applause or murmur as the applause died down and he stared to play.  It was complete silence.  Wild applause.  Then instant silence again.  It was almost spooky to experience, but soon I was caught up in the same cycle.

I remember looking up at him from my front row position as he played in the stage light and being mesmerized as he played his music to me.  I recognised more songs than I thought I would and by the end of the gig I was applauding as wildly as everyone else.  I also remember leaving the theatre at the end and walking to the parked car feeling almost shell shocked.  I was still reeling from the atmosphere in the gig and the night felt hushed and muted in comparison.

I had never encountered anything like that before, or since, and it sticks in my mind as one of the most spellbinding and unique gig experiences of my life.  And to think, I could’ve been sat indoors alone that night instead!

Struggling with Jazz.

I really struggled to get my head around Jazz music.  There.  I’ve said it.  It’s out.  I’m sure I’m not the only one, but those erratic time beats, wandering basslines and noodling guitars really threw me for six.  I knew it was meant to be cool and sophisticated, but I always came away from trying to listen to it feeling like a bit of an uncultured philistine.  Surely I was missing something.

It was while reading a book about Leonardo Da Vinci and how to cultivate his mindset that I came across an idea that may just help me get to grips with Jazz.  It suggested completely immersing myself in Jazz music for one week.  Buy some classic albums and artists and then saturate myself in all things jazzy and new to my senses for one whole week.  What did I have to lose, apart from my sanity?  So after a trip to HMV on Oxford street with my credit card in hand and where a helpful jazz aficionado member of staff suggested for me some key albums, I was all set and ready to go.

Day one eased me into things gently.  I listened to a Blue Note compilation album and got a feel for what sorts of jazz I may like.  I listened to some Dave Brubeck and his infectious ‘Take Five’ and some Herbie Hancock.  So far so good.  This all had a melody I could recognise and latch on to. My feet were tapping, my fingers were clicking and I was feeling cooler already.

Day two stepped things up a notch.  I started off with some Mingus and I’ll never forget the first time I heard the bass on ‘Haitian Fight Song’ reverberate through my body.  It seemed almost too elemental and when the drums and horns kicked in there was no going back.  Over the course of that day I listened to Miles Davis’ ‘Kind of Blue’, Lee Morgan’s ‘The Sidewinder’ and Jimmy Smith’s ‘The Sermon!’.  I walked home with a nonchalant bounce in my step and pondered how I’d look in a black roll neck and a beret.

Kind of Blue

Day three was like the day when going cold turkey really kicks in.  Thelonious Monk was my baptism of fire that morning and by the time I put on some Art Blakey and his frenetic drumming was hammering through my head, I was beginning to think I had bitten off more than I could chew.  I took a break over lunch and pushed the play button on ‘Friday Night in San Francisco’ with some trepidation.  Fortunately Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin and Paco de Lucia rescued my jazz experiment and I was back on track.  I rounded off the day with some Charlie Christian and Wes Montgomery and considered a membership to Ronnie Scotts.

Day four swung round and I was starting to find my feet. After the previous day and feeling my nerves and sanity beginning to fray, I thought it better to take it slow and begin with Charlie Parker’s ‘Washington Concert’.  It was an eye opening experience and I never knew a saxophone could sound so raw and so precise at the same time.  I would be coming back to this album again.  After Dizzy Gillespie’s ‘Groovin High’ I thought I’d try some Jazz vocalists and Nine Simone, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughan and Ella Fitzgerald all introduced me to the smoky, soulful side of Jazz and I had also found a side of it that felt less hectic and more measured.

Day five and it was the end of the work week, but not yet the end of my jazz immersion.  I had been suggested some modern jazz and after a few hours of Fourplay, Return to Forever and Weather Report I was ready to go back to more traditional jazz!  It was ok, but very dated and cheesy. No where near as cool as I’d hoped it to be.  John Coltrane’s ‘Blue Train’ got me back on the tracks, so to speak, and heading in the right direction again.  I tried some more Miles Davis and ‘Birth of the Cool’ more than lived up to it’s name.

Blue Train

Day six and I was starting to feel I was getting a handle on all this jazz lark.  I could hear the offbeats and get an understanding for why they were there and what they achieved.  The improvisational aspects confused me less and the more structured stuff balanced everything out just right.  I played some George Benson and Ron Afif and mentally relived seeing Afif in New York many years before (that’s another story).  Gil Scott Heron segued jazz into funk and back again and his poetry and jazz infusion was perfect for my weekend state of mind.  I played some Duke Ellington, before ending things with some eighties Quincy Jones.  I had listened to ‘Back on the Block’ numerous times growing up, so I knew it wasn’t going to be a problem for me.

Day seven and it was a lazy Sunday morning which found me slipping St Germain’s ‘Tourist’ into the CD player.  ‘Rose Rouge’ was addictive and my heartbeat was soon skipping along with that drumbeat.  A cup of strong coffee in one hand and St Germain playing in the background and I was transported to Paris and the hip, jazz scene.  If only.  The rest of the day I spent playing favourite tracks I had discovered that week.  I picked out a smooth soulful number here, a deep bassy mournful song there, followed by some slick guitar fills and atmospheric trumpets.  I sat back and was in my element.

Tourist

I won’t lie.  I found it extremely difficult some days and I have still never fully learnt to love Monk or Blakey.  But on the flip side I discovered some artists and music that week that has enriched my life immeasurably.  It was an experiment that took time and money, but it paid off my effort tenfold and I can now say I enjoy jazz in all it’s myriad forms and genuinely mean it. 

I didn’t buy that beret or sign up to Ronnie Scotts, but a small part of me did feel cooler just by listening to some of the music that week.  That wasn’t the main goal, but a tongue-in-cheek bonus and yet I can understand why some people use jazz to feel this way.  It’s one of the few times these nerds will ever feel like that and as a nerd myself I was happy to join in.  Jazz certainly is an acquired taste and I’m just glad I took the time to acquire it.

Changing my mood with music.

When I was fifteen years old I was involved in a serious car crash whilst returning from a Christmas holiday in France.  It left me profoundly changed and I will never forget seeing a car careening towards me and thinking ‘this is it’.  My life didn’t quite flash before my eyes, but I certainly had enough time to think it was going to soon be over.

For months afterwards I had a renewed passion for life and my sullen teenage mind seemed rejuvenated and positive about life’s vast possibilities.  I felt anything was possible and that after being given a second chance I could make anything of my life. 

Sadly this didn’t last long and I went to the opposite extreme of plunging into a deep depression.  I couldn’t quite fathom why, but I felt suicidal and trapped by a sadness so deep there seemed to be no way to claw myself out. 

Both the high and low since the car crash were linked, but that didn’t stop the pain I was feeling in my life.  I couldn’t seem to bring myself back to some kind of middle ground.

One sunny summer afternoon I went to see The Eagles play their comeback tour at Wembley Stadium.  I sat and watched the support band and whilst I enjoyed the music, it didn’t touch me on anything other than a superficial level.  Then The Eagles came on and started their set.  The audience was in rapture.  The music thumped out.  The fans around me were good natured and talking to one another in their enjoyment and the sense of camaraderie was palpable.  Lights flashed in time to the guitars and drums and soon the party was in full swing.  I certainly appreciated the atmosphere around me, but I can’t say I was fully enjoying myself.

Then as the light started to fade in the sky the band started to play ‘Boys of Summer’.  From the opening knocking drumbeat and that addictive synthesizer riff something in me began to stir.  Clichéd as it may sound, sunlight broke through the clouds and backlit the clouds in a memorable and moving way.  The music continued to play and I remember looking to the sky as the music coursed through me.  As the chorus hit I breathed in deeply and thought to myself about how powerful the positive energy in the stadium was.  Everyone was having a great time and the power of the music was energising everyone.  I breathed out and imagined all the dark depression leaving me.  I actually felt something within me change as I did this.  I did this again, breathing in thinking about the positive energy of the music and crowd and breathing out the darkness that had been trapping me for what felt like so long.

By the time the song had ended I felt fundamentally changed and the rest of the concert resonated in a way the first half hadn’t.  I remember walking to the tube station afterwards.  I looked back at the stadium and felt some kind of equilibrium had come back into my life. 

I have since heard others talk of the restorative and healing power of music and whereas, before my experience, I may have scoffed, now I inwardly smile and know the truth of it.  I believe in the ability to fundamentally alter your mood with music (with certain limitations of course) and I will certainly explore this idea more in articles to come.

Ticket from the concert.

Film Soundtracks and Early Ego Boosts.

When I was a young boy my step father used to wake the household with rousing classical music, played at a healthy and bed shaking volume.  To wake to Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkries' may not have done much to quell the ego or dispel any latent feelings for dictatorial tendencies that may have stirred within my young mind, but it certainly got me out of bed with a start.

My classical education began young and despite complaining and grumbling at the time I am profoundly grateful now.  Although I still contend that some opera is nothing but ‘screeching and caterwauling’, but only some.

Over the years I have started to appreciate classical film soundtracks more and more and often, if I am in the mood for classical music, I will reach for one of these albums first.  By their very nature they are composed to be stirring or evocative or to compliment quieter moments in the film. They tend to have an over-arcing narrative which follows the story of the film and often build to a crescendo.  It may be my modern sensibilities, but I have grown to love certain soundtracks more than comparable classical music.

I particularly love Hans Zimmer’s ‘The Last Samurai’ and it’s blend of strings and more traditional instruments never fails to stir me.  There is one moment on the soundtrack where a group of Samurais yell and shout which makes me jump most times I listen to it, but apart from that it’s a very emotional and moving piece of music.  More importantly, since listening to the album as a piece of music in it’s own right I have grown to appreciate it’s place in the film whenever I now watch it.  Film music has an often overlooked and potent place in any production and I have gradually learnt to listen out for it and respect it.

The Last Samurai Soundtrack

Another piece of music I adore is Angelo Milli’s ‘Seven Pounds’ soundtrack and I was delighted recently to repay the musical favour and buy this for my step father as a present.  This soundtrack is more subtle than some of Zimmer’s compositions and the use of choral work on this album lift it above many other soundtracks I have heard recently.  This is definitely one of those albums I mentioned that has a narrative all of it’s own and the way it builds makes it all the more powerful.  By the time ‘Requiem’ comes along I am a quivering wreck and I feel my emotional strings being plucked and played almost as potently as the instruments creating the music.

Seven Pounds Soundtrack

Other soundtracks, like the ‘Garden State’ soundtrack use existing music to augment the scenes on film and I like these as much as other albums I own.  But there is something rousing and lifting about some soundtracks that have been composed specifically for the images on screen.  They are wonderful to listen to if you have seen (and been moved by) the film, but more often than not they can be enjoyed and loved in their own right.  The two mentioned here are just the ones that immediately come to mind and are particular favourites of mine, but I always listen out now when I watch a film to find the next sublime composition to enter my life.

Magical melodies and Mojitos.

If there was one place I have visited so far where music was all pervasive, then it has to be Cuba.  From shop windows and street corners, to clubs, restaurants and bars, music can be heard everywhere.

Spending two weeks in Cuba last year was a treat for my musical education and that’s on top of my life being additionally enriched by the history, culture and cocktails I experienced whilst I was there.  Music is the life blood and heartbeat of this intoxicating nation.

I will never forget seeing Buena Vista Social Club at the Hotel Nacional.  The particular incarnation I saw was The Compay Segundo Group and from that first latin soaked guitar strum, to the last bongo hit, I was held captivated.  The concert was held in a hall lined with artwork of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara and although I knew it was all tailored for a tourist audience, it didn’t diminish my enjoyment one iota.  I think my enjoyment was only bolstered by a Japanese tour group who sat on the table next to me, who had no inhibitions whatsoever and jumped up and danced badly, but with real delight, to every number.  It made a special evening even better and all the more memorable.

Compay Segundo Group

An example of the Fidel and Che artwork.

But, my real musical memory of Cuba was something a lot more low key and magical.  My wife and I would go out from our hotel in the evenings for our meal and often return to sit on the terrace for cocktails and to watch the world go by.  There is nothing more spellbinding than sitting on plush sofas, in a courtyard with Moroccan inspired architecture, drinking cold mojitos with large crystals of sugar to offset the bite of rum and listening to live music drift across to you on the warm night air.  The breeze would rustle through the palms, birds would tweet and chirrup despite the darkness and the air hung with the murmur of talk and the pungent, evocative aroma of cigar smoke.  The infectious rhythms of ‘Chan Chan’ being played, or the plaintive notes of a love ballad only served as the final, perfect backdrop to this memory.

The courtyard where we drunk our cocktails and soaked up the music.

Our favourite band serenading us on our last day.

Whenever I hear Cuban music now I am transported back to those evenings and although it may be snowing outside or pouring with rain, my body remembers the heat and contentment of those nights.  I wonder if I will go back to experience it again, although maybe it is an experience best left as a memory to pull out, go over and savour whenever I need that warm little pick-me-up on a cold night.

Sunglasses and a Mojito, two essentials for Cuba.

Introducing my blog.

I have to say that one of my major passions in life is music.  I have to listen to some form of music at least once each day or else I won’t finish the day feeling satisfied.  I have quite an eclectic taste in music and whilst most of us, when asked what music we like, will nearly always say “a bit of everything really“, in my case this is largely true.

In my music collection I have everything from heavy metal to gospel, jazz to electronica, blues to funk, pop to classical and all of this with a bit of world music, opera, film soundtrack and other genres besides, thrown into the mix.  To be honest the only music I haven’t fully got to grips with is drum n bass and the manufactured music as championed by such reality shows as X-factor.

I read a great deal of music reviews from a variety of sources and music magazines and I also write my own online reviews of CD’s as well as books and other products.  I have found that the online retailer review format doesn’t appreciate longer reviews, or related thoughts on music, so I thought I’d start this blog to share my thoughts on music and music related topics in general.

I hope to share the new music I find and my passion for music in all it’s forms.  I hope to do this as regularly as I am able on the blog and will write about things like my reminiscences of concerts or live music I’ve seen, reviews of albums or musical equipment I enjoy (or even those albums I dislike), my general musings in relation to music and it’s impact in my life and other topics I may think up or stumble across as my blog progresses.

I hope you will find at least one article/entry of interest and will come back to read more as I post them and feel like you have enjoyed this blog enough to want to share it with your friends and colleagues.

Music is my life and I look forward to sharing this aspect of my life with you.