Apropos of nothing and everything at the same time, pretty much everything that I see, hear or experience in any other way somehow always ties into my love of music.
That may not, on its own, be such an odd admission, but it feels like it to me because, no matter how much I’ve tried, I can’t play to save my life. Even the simplest chords or melodies I hear seem out of reach any time I pull out my guitar or sit at the piano and try to imitate what I’ve just heard.
Not only that, but to say I can’t sing is a huge understatement. Even when I give myself enough of a pass to try, using the rationale of making a joyful noise, there is nothing at all joyful about the sounds that come from my throat or the reactions of anyone who hears them.
So, I’ve thought, maybe I could give writing lyrics a try. After all, I’ve always loved to write.
When everyone else in middle and high school would moan and complain every time we were assigned to write a book report or essay, I would dive into that assignment with enthusiasm. Usually, that meant spending all of my homework time on that one project, getting nothing done for any other class.
But somehow, writing prose has never translated into writing poetry or song lyrics, at least for me.
Despite all that, no matter what I’m doing, there’s always a soundtrack running in my head, and almost everything that happens within sight or earshot, or that triggers an emotion, ties in somehow to music, even if it’s just a single line in a lyric or a melody instead of an entire song.
That’s what has always been so frustrating about my complete inability to play or sing.
I love sports as much as I love music, but even though I wasn’t a very good player, I could at least do the fundamental things.
I might not have thrown 100 miles an hour, but I could stand on the mound and throw the ball right to the catcher’s glove. I could walk out onto a basketball court and hit a reasonable percentage of shots from the 3-point line, even if I might not have been able to get that shot off in a game against a better athlete. I might not run a 10-second 100-meter dash, but I could run 100 meters.
But music? When I sit at a piano or hold my guitar, the only similarity between the sound I can make and that of a musician is simply because the vibration is the same no matter who hits the key or strums the strings.
Worse yet, there is no similarity at all between what I hear in my head and the sound I can make the piano or guitar produce.
But lately, I’ve come to the realization that I don’t love music despite my inability to create it. I love it because I can’t.
I’ve concluded that my complete lack of talent is why I appreciate even more the magic that others create with those keys, strings and voices.
That’s why, when someone asks me if I play any musical instruments, I say, “Yes. I play the radio, and I’m awesome at it.”
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