Posted on November, 9th 2016 by Marie
When I stand in the audience at a good blues concert, divisions between people fade to the background.
I don’t care if the person next to me is wearing nice clothes or not, is a Democrat or Republican, is of the same nationality, race, or faith, or whether s/he eats meat or not (although garlic breath can be distracting).
What we share in that moment is an experience of music taking us on a journey into ourselves, and out into the field of our commonality.
We watch the band “click” with each other on stage, and their engagement spreads to the audience.
We click back to the musicians and to each other, as we are taken on a shared journey. Here, the response and energy from the audience feed off that of the musicians, but it also feeds back to the musicians who thrive on, and are inspired by, the energy they get back from the audience.
We visit with our bodies, sway in time with the music, dance, or just tap a hand or foot in time with the music. The low frequencies from the bass and drums penetrate our physical being, and we literally vibrate along with it, united in the same pulse.
At that moment, we share something primal: a sense of togetherness beyond distinctions and divisions. Music is a bond that tells a story of ourselves and each other, and as we tap into it, we feel a sense of healing and restoration.
It is mysterious, and at the same time it is in our DNA.
All through human history, we have celebrated what happens when we tap into the same rhythm. Whether dancing together to drums around the fire, or finding unity of movement and courage as military bands lead the way into battle: the knowledge that we are stronger together has always been a side-effect of certain kinds of music.
The kinds of music that bond us with each other are often built on repetitive musical elements: rhythm and chord structures happen again and again, stimulating endorphin releases that make us relax. We might even experience light trance states that lift us gently out of ourselves.
There is something powerful in this experience of music that help us remember who we are.
There truth is that in blues we are not different. We are humans that suffer and celebrate, who think and feel, and who live and breathe. Together we revisit with a powerful memory of who we are as defined by what we have in common, not by what we don’t.
To pre-order my book: The Blues – Why it Still Hurts so Good, visit my website: www.marietrout.com