Music is Life

After a long absence, I've gotten back into music. 

I'm not even approaching songs, yet... I'm rebuilding my skills from the ground up, playing scales a hundred time a day, woodshed stuff like that.

But let's look at my instrument, the bass. Specifically, the electric bass. Even more specifically, a Fender Jazz Bass.

There are many, many ways to interact with this thing that produces nothing but noise: smashing it, throwing it, jumping up and down on it, whatever. Even if you actively tried to make music with it, unless you developed some skills, it would still sound terrible. Noise. 

This isn't just some object. It itsn't a punch bowl or a jackhammer or a tire iron. It's a musical instrument. But the only way to find the music within this inanimate object is to handle it in a very specific way -- in this case, placing your fingers on the frets in sequence and striking the strings with your other hand -- and to do so with a degree of skill... skills which take hours and hours of effort to develop.

My point is... a bass is a bunch of pieces of wood crammed together, not unlike a piece of furniture. But it doesn't function as furniture. Its only function is to make music. And yet, that music will only come if the manner with which you interact with it is very specific in nature. 

It makes me thinks of us, as human beings. We're a collection of cells, not unlike a lamp or a rock. You say we're alive? Okay... what's the difference between us and an ape or a pig? You say it's because we have intellect and souls. But what good do those things do us if we don't use them? What if you're just a biological machine that does nothing but consume beer and make babies? 

Within each of us, we have the potential for music. But, like an instrument, we must be handled in a very specific manner. We can't be broken in half and jumped upon, and be expected to create notes. No... we have to be touched, and with some skill.

This, I believe, is the function of love.