Music Junkie

I think I'm addicted to music. No, really. I was pondering the affect that music has on me and the way I go about selecting music to purchase, and the similarities between me listening to music and a junkie looking for her next fix were really freaking me out. Or maybe it was just that I hadn't heard a good tune in over an hour.

*snicker*

But seriously, folks, there's something weird going on here with me and music. I like it more than the average person, I think. I like how it makes me feel when I get a song that really moves me, and I like it so much that I have been known to play the same song, over and over, for over an hour at a time, just to keep feeling the rush that comes with the song.

That's especially true for me with a new CD. Typically, I hear a song I really like (on Internet radio, because the local stations either don't have what I like, or they don't play it during daylight hours) and can't get enough of it in that forum, so I order the CD. Upon receipt, I play "the song" repeatedly, saturating my brain with it. And THEN I listen to the rest of the CD.

Hey, priorities. You gotta get the fix first.

I actually have the same tendencies with food. If I like something (sweets and/or carbs, especially during the winter, but I digress), I gorge myself on it. I can't get enough of it, even when I've had enough. I just don't know when to quit. At least music isn't fattening!

It's not so much of a conscious choice—in either case, but I'm back to speaking of music, at least for now—as it is an imperative of some sort. It's like when you think you just HAVE to do something or some dire consequences will ensue, and even though you don't know what that might be, you aren't about to wait to find out. You just have to do this thing, and truth be told, you're less concerned with what might happen if you don't—even though you just KNOW it would be bad—than how you will feel when you DO.

Because you know it's going to be good, so very, VERY good.

Music that I play over and over is like that for me. It's a difficult sensation to describe, but it involves actual chills (where the fine hairs on my arms raises up, yes, ACTUAL CHILLS, as you can see, I meant what I said) and a flush of a rush, as if I were on a rollercoaster that was JUST about to go down the first, impossibly steep drop of its run. It's the kind of feeling you get when something BIG is happening, and you are so excited for it to happen that you can hardly stand waiting those last few split-seconds; the anticipation becomes a physical pain, a "flight-or-fight" response, and it threatens to overload you with its power surge.

I'd call it an orgasmic feeling, but if I did, I'd have to specify that it's not sexual, and that would confuse at least half of my reading audience (that's a joke; everyone knows that zero divided by anything is still zero, unless it's zero, and that's just a stupid math joke, so I'll quit while I'm ... not TOO far behind).

I've long been intriuged by the effect that music can have on me. And I've long been in search of just WHAT kind of music can set that sensation off, because it IS worth doing and redoing, and like any good junkie, I'm always watching for a way to get my next fix.

The thing is, it's not that easy to predict. Oh, there's stuff that won't set it off (country music just does NOT "do it" for me), and there's stuff that CAN set it off, but is risky (classical music can not only generate the orgasmic rush, but it can also bring up terrible sadness, and if there's one thing I do NOT need, it's something ELSE that can depress me). And there's stuff that SHOULD set it off but won't, or still that might set it off but also might not ...

In short, there doesn't seem to be a pure source of my musical nirvana, and there's not a reliable dealer to be had, either.

Heavy metal is my current "best bet," but I've found a few sources in mainstream, popular music, too. Nostalgia can enhance a song—association with some person or event that I remember fondly—and I've noticed that lyrics can be a major player, too—although their effect can be transient, lasting only as long as whatever crisis, question, or concern with which I relate to those particular lyrics.

Most often, it seems to me—though I'm no music expert—that there's a particular, harmonious blend of a tune and a unique—or at least powerful—driving beat that sets off that one spark that eventually leads to a blazing fire. FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! *Beavis-&-Butthead-like chuckle goes here*

It starts with a little tinge of warmth on the back of my neck or along my jaw, and then it lifts the delicate hairs on my arms and flushes along my shoulders, and occasionally my thighs. It lasts only as long as the thrill of the single segment of song that inspires it, but it's delicious nonetheless. It's not so much of a core sensation as a periphery one, although the physical part of it seems to carry it to that level, too, at least sometimes.

Sound, I recently read, is a purer, deeper sense than sight. We need light to see, but sound reaches out to us even in the darkest and deepest of nights, from things which we may not be able to "know" are even there, by sight. Sound is interwoven with touch, for especially with loud music—which I prefer—you can feel the sound in addition to hearing it. Physiologically, too, this is true, because it's the vibrations of sound that activate the various sound-touch sensitive parts of the ear and translate into sound inside our minds.

Upon reflection, maybe it is all rather sexual after all! There's certainly a fair amount of parallels, but if I think about it too much, I might have to quit listening to music when I drive, and that would suck. So let's move on, or rather, BACK, to how music is addictive.

So I've established that it's not the genre or a particular piece that I'm after, although that's certainly relevant. But it's the FEELING that holds the special appeal, that certain sensation that I crave. The rush is the obsession, the drive, and the compulsion.

I'm not sure if it's dangerous. Thus far, it hasn't substantially depeleted my bank account, or interfered (much) with my daily existence. It hasn't really affected my relationships, except that I have found it rather disturbing that I'm "musically incompatible" with pretty much everyone I know. There is an occasional tune or two that someone near and dear to me may find "interesting," but I think they're saying that in the same sort of sense that watching a snake ingest a squirming mouse is "interesting."

You know, if you can get past your own personal revulsion, it does have a certain, purely objective appeal.

I'm only partly kidding. No one I know "gets" In Flames, for example. They don't seem to be able to get past the way the lead screamer rips out a tune to see how it fits into the music, or the lyrical poetry. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it leaves me talking to my blog when I want to carry out a discussion of how cool it is.

And no offense, buddy, but you're only slightly more communicative in response than a brick wall, and yes, I HAVE tried talking to one, so I do know what I'm talking—writing—about, thankyouverymuch.

The thing about talking to a brick wall, though, is you can hear the sound, even if the wall cannot, and you know the thoughts are real when they echo back to you.

Maybe that's the secret appeal of a music fix. It's an echo—of a sort—of something that resonates especially well with you that appeals to you the most. And the music junkie wants more than anything to feel that intense and rich harmony with the music—to become PART of it—however briefly, and then, to make it last.

Or at least repeat the experience as often as possible.