The Language of Music

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Church music, 78's dropping from the hi-fi, my grandmother's soothing lullabies, my much older brother crooning a song by the platters, there has always been music in my life a backdrop of my life; always present insinuating itself into my mind and thoughts.

The first recording that I saved enough money to buy was "Downtown" by Petula Clark, which I proudly showed to my brothers whose soulful R&B tastes were not in the least bit impressed. Undaunted and unaware that I misplaced my soulful roots, I continued listening to and enjoying the tunes played by Cousin Brucie on a static filled AM 77 WABC. When the teenagers took over the basement, heavy bass and saxophones filled the air.... And Sunday morning church music filled both the house of worship in the morning and the house of John Taylor for the rest of the day. I found that it really didn't matter who was in charge of the turntable or radio dial, I could sing along (unfortunately terribly out of key) with whatever came out of the speaker and love every minute of it.

Along with adolescence came some earning power and a personal sound system allowing me a little more discretion in musical interests. I could choose the music to which I listened; I could buy the records I wanted and did not have to rely upon others for my listening pleasure. Despite the fact that I was in control, my history guided me and my choices included rhythm and blues as dictated by my older brother, but also the gospel of the Harmonizing Four and Mahalia Jackson were included in my shopping cart from time to time. I remained true to the trendy music of the top forty stations and was excited by Sgt. Pepper and the other unique sounds of the time but the crooning of Frank Sinatra also seemed romantic enough to give it a try.

Somehow my eclectic tastes continued as I found appreciation for Laura Nyro and Jerry Garcia. It seemed as if all music was great in some manner. There was always something about it that could captivate me; some note or lyric that would engage me enough to want to own it and to want to listen to it time and time again. Music became very important to me. A certain riff, certain lyrics, the sound of a voice could bring a big smile to my face or tears to my eyes.

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