Little things that feed the flame


The Mystery of Rufus Wainwright

Music. I guess I should start with a disclaimer that I was never really that much into it. Not like some people. I do love music and it would be awkward to imagine life without it. It’s just that I have never seen it as a sort of life philosophy or identity vehicle as many young people often seem to do. I am not what I listen to. I never was the one to hunt down new names, discuss musical discoveries with friends, or even hang posters of bands on the walls. (Not that there is anything wrong with it. For some reason, music simply did not take that role in my life.)

Of course, I did have favourite artists or styles and these preferences changed over years. Some events or stages in my life will forever be glued to certain songs or musicians. I think I actually experienced time travelling – right back into the days when I was 16 – at a Roxette concert a couple of years ago. Hearing Bryan Adams or Leonard Cohen live in concert was as much a trip down memory lane as it was a terrific experience in its own right (growing up in a small post-communist state where stars would come on tour only towards the sunset of their careers, if ever, the thought of seeing those guys live did not even actually cross my mind before I moved to Ireland).

So yes, music certainly does have a place in my life. Continue reading