It’s interesting, to meet someone who has always worn the same styles, eaten the same kinds of foods and listened to the same music. On one hand, I admire the steadfast loyalty this takes. But is this a life, fulfilled? For some it seems so, but when I get the jones for something new, there’s no stopping me seeking it out.
For what seems like a terribly long time, I could listen to nothing but female music artists. One in particular was in constant rotation for over a decade. The shows I attended were mostly female singer-songwriters. There were a few male standbys that got some play, but for the greater part of the 90’s, it was all about the ladies. Did these women saturate the airwaves? If the music I listen to ever hit he airwaves, that might be one explanation. Celebrity has evaded most of my favorite artists. I will admit to holding a kind of grudge against those who do. It’s like my little secret is out, and now I have to share. Rarity is a fine quality.
For a couple of years, I have listened to mostly male artists and bands. There have been a few exceptions, but nothing that has held my attention for very long. Some of my favorite women have released new material, which I would have gone nuts over when I was a devoted fan. Instead, I can barely preview the stuff.
This could never, of course, have anything to do with my black and white thinking. It’s either the sky or the grass, good or bad. I can’t seem to get the hang of gray areas. I’m only cheating myself. I could have the best of both worlds.
That’s where the “same guys” and I part company. If you would have told me during my dance music phase that I would be listening to folk singers a few years later, I would have laughed. Often times memories have a soundtrack. Mine is a mix tape.