A year ago (possibly longer) I wrote as a part of a dating profile
I do not have as close a relationship with music as lots of people I know. I like a little of everything and have tastes that can best be defined as eclectic. Pandora suggests that I like “breathy female vocals”. I have decided the soundtrack to “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” is way too beautiful.
I feel that in a lot of ways this still holds true. I’ll get into conversations about music and be totally ignorant of a song, or artist, or more commonly that a song belongs to a particular artist. Yet I’ve spent lots of time learning lately about what makes something blues music. What makes a song one genre or the other.
And then we come to my point of pride: my collection of music. I spend time listening to lots and lots of bad and mediocre songs to find the few diamonds in the rough. The few times I’ve taken the opportunity to play parts of my curated collection the response has been astoundingly positive. This causes me all sorts of pride. I like having my taste praise, especially because I have put forward quite a bit of work in developing it.