‘Bout time; come in.
It’s been about a month since my fingers had a rendezvous with my keyboard. The clutter in my schedule warrants little time for listening to music, nonetheless writing about it. Passions sometimes dwindle without constant reinforcement, but I had an experience a few days ago that got me back on the right track.
Where you going? Come here.
I was at work early Thursday morning. My manager was playing various music at a significant volume. There was the occasional Puerto Rican jam, but they were buried among pop tunes that don’t do much for my soul. I was working about 50 feet away from those speakers, so I decided to play my own music from my phone and put the device in my back pocket while I worked. I was doing some mundane task that I now cannot recall, and my brain reacted accordingly, slipping out of the present moment for substantial amounts of time. One sustained note, sung with an immense amount of soul, brought me back. I turned toward my coworkers and thought, “Who is THAT? I need to be listening to more of them!” After a few seconds, I realized that voice had come from my back pocket, and it was during “319” (from The Gold Experience) of all songs.
It is moments like these that reaffirm that I am listening to music that benefits my well-being. Being completely astounded by an artist I listen to nearly every day is a truly uplifting feeling. In the past couple of weeks, I had been wondering if I listen to Prince simply out of habit, but this experience really spoke to the contrary. Now, let me clear a few hours in my schedule to get back to my passion for music.
Lock the door and kill the phone.