on being a musician
I call myself a musician often, and I do it happily. At parties I deliver the news mischievously, with a smirk, as if to say, “that’s right, you’re gonna have to ask a lot more questions to figure out what I mean by that… wanna play?” When I write it on medical forms, I imagine the person in the billing department typing my answer in the computer and shaking their head, thinking, “damn it, we’re gonna have to chase this guy down… musicians are the worst.” And when I’m acting too young for my age - for example, jumping around like a monkey, something I’m particularly fond of doing - and someone unaccustomed to this behavior looks at me with mild concern and asks what I’m doing, I’ll say, “what, I’m a musician!” - and by that I mean something that I think they already believe, which is that musicians exist somewhere outside of social norms, and that ultimately weird behavior like jumping and howling is to be expected. It’s like, in order for musicians to preserve the strange quality that allows us to produce the sounds we call music, we must sacrifice some fundamental coherence with the outside world. Can you really be surprised that we imitate our simian relatives? Seems pretty logical to me.
One of the things you notice when you call yourself a musician is how very few others are doing it. After I’ve told someone what I do (“Oh I sing with these folks,” or “I write music for those folks,”) I’ll often turn the question back on them: “So, are you a musician?” When I do, I’m almost invariably met with a palpable shock. Their eyes widen and their head pulls back a little. Often they’ll shake their heads, look down, and chuckle. They’ll then give me one of a few responses:
“Who me? Absolutely not, I’m completely tone deaf.”
“You don’t want to hear my voice. I mean, I sing alone in the car, but you do NOT want to hear it.” (side note: I do)
“Oh, I LOVE music - I mean I love listening to music - but no, I’m not a musician. I’m not good enough.”
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be a musician, who defines it, and why people are so allergic to using it as a self-descriptor. I have a lot of questions. If someone sings in the shower, are they a musician? If someone taps their pen while they listen to a song, are they a musician? If they go to a protest march and chant, are they a musician?
I’ve also been thinking about what it means to make music. Is talking fast to get people excited a kind of music? Is using a tone of voice we intend to comfort someone a kind of music? When we read a children’s book and imitate the sound of an owl or a cow, is that music?
Music is notoriously hard to define. We can point to all sort of things that can be part of music - melody, harmony, rhythm, timbre - and we can point to all sorts of forms that we collectively agree to call music - pop ballads, film scores, folk tunes, theme songs - but the line between music and not music is almost never clear. It’s why many composers love to explore the boundaries of life and music: for example, how simple, everyday occurrences, like a construction worker striking a hammer or a chickadee producing its call, could become the basis of a rhythm or melody, which becomes the basis of a symphony of sounds - all of which could arise, develop, climax, and dissipate back to the simple, everyday sound of its beginning.
I’m going to propose something that most people will not agree with, which is: every single person, regardless of what they think or say, is a musician. I don’t need to prove this, because it’s unprovable. The idea of music and musicianship is subjective. The idea that you, reader, are a musician, is a proposal, verging on an appeal, that I’m making to you.
In order to support this, I’m defining “musician” as someone who is capable of making music.
I’m defining “music” as sounds which are produced for an intended effect.
Rather than thinking of music as any of the most prominent versions we can point to (songs, symphonies, etc.) I think of music as intentionally engaging with sound. That’s it.
The difference between music and non-music is awareness and intentionality. The moment we become aware of the sounds we make and then make choices based on that awareness - that’s the moment we start to make music. Consequently, musicians are just people who make sonic decisions rooted in their awareness.
There is so much to unpack around the collective idea of musicianship. Why are so many people accustomed to thinking of musicians as weirdos, idols, late-payers, grungey-folk, type-A orchestralists, mystic poets, and peter pans? Why are most of us allergic to seeing music in ourselves?
I’ll share more thoughts on all of that in future posts. Today, I just want you to take a few moments to become aware of the sounds you already make. And then, if you're ready to take the leap: try to play with them.