I have a secret and you must not tell a soul. It goes a little something like this:
Deep down I have the guilty whimsy to untether myself from obligation and spend all my money on a keyboard with weighted keys and a funky wardrobe and join a band, or a one-man/two-man kind of acoustic act, and spontaneitize experimental synths and riffs and backup vocals and play in clubs and venues around the world (or even just in the UK?) I don't want to be famous, just want word to get around to a local following so we can eat and have a place to hide out from the rain.
You may think it's silly. I would say it's silly except that I daydream about it, and when I daydream about something, there's always a part of me that wants it to come true. It's just not enough to listen to music on my iPod, to listen to the soundtrack narrate my strolls across the London pavement. I want to be the music.
Once when I was in a band, it was like lust, at first. I fell head over heels with the melodic rhythms because they were powerfuI, but more importantly because I was involved with them. They were mine. As I grew accustomed to practicing and playing on a regular basis the music grew bigger than me. The heat rising inside of me paralleled the swelling drum beats and guitar, and without thinking too much, I knew by instinct what to play after each note. It came shooting out of my fingers like stars that don't need to be told where to go.
I miss that. Knowing instinctively what to play next.